#how a beautiful man eats cake

[ratatatastic]

vanha kauppahalli date but the dessert edition aka the more enjoyable edition if not because sasha has a sweet tooth so we can like these foods freely

sasha in the midst of eating merengue and almost choking to death because he thinks any comment out of maffhews mouth is funny maffhew sweetheart we have to think about the effect we have on the people around us for a single second here

[joelsflower]

love language | origins!logan x f!reader

logan told you one million times he didn’t want anything for his birthday… anything besides you, lingerie and the moonlight.

a/n: hiiii <33 lis disappeared but is back again and apparently still obsessed with the concept of hot old men unwrapping you like a present. the hugh jackman fever hit me VERY hard and im down bad cough cough enjoy! also to enhance the experience when i say “he looked up at you” pls picture him exactly like in this picture ☝🏼and expect to feel something growing in ur belly in the next 9 months

wc: 4k

warnings: 18+ mdni. pure smut and fluff!! lingerie, logan is obsessed w reader, older!logan (i picture him in origins cause wtf is this man and reader in her early/middle 20s but up to you! legal ofc!!) fingering and eating out but brief cause reader is hot to go!, blowjob, facefucking & deepthroat (not rough), unprotected piv (wrap it up!), creampie, AFTERCARE!!! like SO MUCH logan is soooo soft!dom in this the whole time is like toothache sweet cause it’s a lis fic and yes. they are IN LOVE yall. oh and also reader is a kindergarten teacher (oops

🎀🎀🎀

“Stay”

You grabbed his wrist the moment he recollected his will to leave the end of the bed. Logan’s eyes turned soft, finding you from over his shoulder and turning around to follow the sunlight that kissed your cheeks.

“I wish, angel,” he cooed, both hands brushing your cheeks while his body towered over you “but someone already made me late, huh?”

You gave him a shy smile to meet the smirk that adorned his features, both of you sharing the memories of your bodies tangled just minutes prior. “Wanted to give you a present,” you almost whispered, remembering the one hundred times he told you he didn’t want anything for his birthday.

Not a cake, not a present, not a party. Nothing. Just you.

Logan’s smile faded, but you knew he wasn’t mad. With large hands embracing your neck softly, he kissed you on the forehead, “told you,” on the nose, “you are,” on the jaw, “the only thing i want”, and on your mouth, leaving the taste of him to linger on your lips throughout the whole day.

Your eyes slowly drifted up to find his gaze, the back of your head now resting on his palms.

“Promise” he gave you a sterner look before walking towards the door, “I promise,” you whispered, following as the smile you had earned earlier returned to his face, his back only turning to you when he heard the words fall from your lips.

But it was only a half promise. After all, he still wanted nothing but you, right?

🎀🎀🎀

The day passed by very slowly. You didn’t work on fridays, so you spent the most of it correcting some grades and planning the activities for your next week’s classes. You missed the kids, you can’t lie, and having glue and glitter all over your house definitely distracted you from the little something that was waiting patiently inside a very fancy box on the back of your closet.

The sun was setting around the time Logan would be home and you also had finished all the things you had planned earlier, so you used the time you had to take a shower and get ready.

The scent of some very sweet flower graced your nostrils when you pulled the lid of the heart-shaped box. Your eyes glowed in awe when your fingertips brushed the delicate baby pink lace, the little hairs on your lower belly goosebumping with anticipation, thinking how beautiful you’d feel in it and how the man that loved you would feel about you in it.

And that’s when you heard his steps on the stairs.

Logan arrived silently, and in part to make sure you hadn’t burnt yourself out making some sort of surprise for him. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, but all the glitter and glue on the table and the all the silence scared him a bit.

“Baby?” He called you while undressing himself down to his black t-shirt and boxers. “Oh, hey you,” his expression softened when his eyes found your head peaking from the bathroom door, gaze savoring the sight of him slowly unbuckling his belt.

“How was your day?” you asked watching him from the same spot, the muscles of his arms flexing when he reached to close the door and turn off the lights. Exactly how he said, the only things he wanted for his birthday were you, the lingerie he still didn’t know about, and the moon watching the two of you through the window.

“Great. Apparently someone told the guys it was my birthday and they let me work on paper today. So… Not so tired as I usually am.”

“I’m not sorry for that,” you smiled, knowing exactly who told the guys it was his birthday.

“I know,” he reciprocated your smirk, offering a hand in your direction. “Come here.”

Your breath got momentarily caught in your throat, excitement bursting in your body like fireworks in your veins.

“Close your eyes,” you said.

“Sweetheart-“

“Please?”

And how could he not? When your soft voice asked so nicely for him to? And the sweet and at the same time sexy scent of your perfume bewitched his thoughts? With your eyelashes blinking up at him and making the cold of his claws run to the lower of his spine? If closing his eyes would end the distance between you, then he would.

You then stepped carefully towards him, trying not to bump onto his knees and ruin the surprise.

You took both of his hands within yours, playing his fingers with your smaller ones. The simple contact made him shiver, the warmth of your presence washing all his tiredness and worries away.

“Could sit here with my eyes closed and just smell you forever”

You grinned. You knew his senses were heightened and definitely wanted to play with it tonight.

“Well, you told me you didn’t want to receive anything,” you then brought his hands to the sides of your thighs, the firmness of his palms on your soft skin sending shivers up and down your belly.

“Not totally true,” he thumbed your leg, fingertip brushing dangerously close to the fabric.

“Mhmm,” your hands glued on top of his and guided them a little lower, his palms now resting on top of the delicate, lacy garters adorning your thighs, “but I want you to feel it.”

Logan’s thoughts were in completely caos. Which of course, could only be translated by the grin on his face. You were close enough that he could not only smell your perfume and your scent, but knowing that he was the one causing that and with so little effort drove him insane. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat and used the grip on your legs to soothe you, moving his thumbs up and down, up and down, very slowly, feeling the contrast between the lacy fabric and your thighs.

“Yeah?”

You agreed silently, using your grip to move one of his hands all the way up to your belly in a very slow motion, to then release them both and let Logan’s fingers dance freely around your body.

The one hand he kept down gripped your thigh harder, snaking down to the back of your knee to bend it over his own leg, giving him better access to the rest of you. The thumb on your belly caressed around of your belly button in small circles and traced all the little flowers and bows on the thing garter that hugged your waist and decorated your breasts. The image being painted on Logan’s mind was already enough to make his underwear start to stiffen.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, and it felt like the first fresh breath he had taken in the day.

The contrast of his rough digits with your delicate skin made your body a too tight space to contain yourself, inching closer to him at every touch. He then surrounded your middle with both of his arms and gave your stomach a kiss, your fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck when he moved his face upwards, his chin rested on your tummy, eyes inching to meet yours.

“Can I see you, princess? Please?”

You hummed a quiet “mhmm”, and when he looked up at you with the most lovelorn eyes you had ever seen, you weren’t strong enough to hold back and kissed him.

It felt like the first kiss you two have had in a lifetime; deep, warm and wet. Your tongues danced together while his arms kept you impossibly closer, hands tightly holding from the back of your thighs to the top of your spine. When you parted to breathe, his eyes found yours again;

“There’s my girl. Let me see you, baby,” he held your hand in his and you took his signal to do a little spin, showing him your lacy one-piece.

“Happy birthday, love” you whispered, hands resting on his shoulders to balance yourself, one leg returning to rest on his.

“So you’re my present, hm?” Logan waited for you silent confirmation, palms devouring your thighs and ass while the kisses that he so gently placed on your knee slowly inched forward, “and do I get to unwrap you, angel?”

At that moment your walls were already pulsing with desire and your mind was already empty of words. You felt his lips wrap at a very special place on your inner thigh while his opposite hand moved up to message one of your boobs. You knew it wouldn’t take much for any of you to release control and quit the teasing, and being both on the verge of bursting the whole day waiting for the other, that was the time and the place.

You whimpered when his hand moved down and cupped your clothed center, his lips now distributing pecks on your hip while your nails dig in his shoulders.

“Gonna let me taste you, sweet girl? Hm?” He kissed your beating clit trough the lace and you nodded your head fastly, not being able to hold back anymore. You knew very well the animalistic look he had on his eyes now and the way his hands couldn’t rest in just one spot; he wanted nothing but to devour, explore and adore you.

With your consent, Logan wasted no time in sliding the delicate fabric to the side to meet your leaking pussy. The groan that left his chest when he saw your juices dripping to down your legs put your whole body on fire, followed by the cold that ran through your veins when two of his digits gently spread your lips apart.

“Fuck, look at you,” his thumb toyed with your clit, drawing little circles with a small pressure of the pad, “that’s how wet this little pussy gets for me, hm? Left you waiting the whole day to take care of you… Bad ol’ man, ain’t I?”

“N-no, you’re g-ood,” you managed to take the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails digging impossibly deeper into his shoulders when his digits lowered down and teased your opening, “and I wanna. Fuck. Wanna be good for you, Logan.”

“Oh, you are, princess. You’re my best girl.”

Pressing your clit between his lips and tongue, he sucked and savoured on it as if you were the source of all life on the planet, the most succulent fruit to the most starving man, like he himself once said; the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His fingers pumped in and out of your hole rhythmically, hitting deeper and deeper each time. His other hand gripped your ass tightly and pressed your lower body impossibly closer to his face, making you moan loudly with all the stimulation.

You felt your walls start to clench his digits and pulled his head back by his hair to join your mouths in a wet, hot kiss, your other hand slowly removing his own from your sopping pussy, your shaking legs leading you to straddle him.

In his lap, the kiss only deepened; your and his movements were desperate, constantly searching for each other. You gripped his shirt by the collar and helped him take it off of his body, his muscular torso greeting you. Your hands eagerly pressed against his chest while Logan dig his fingers deep into your waist and moved you back and forth, your cunt pooling his underwear with the grinding of your exposed center on his throbbing and neglected cock.

“Wait- Logan, wait,” you pulled his roots again, making him moan.

“I’m here,” he rest his forehead on yours, fingers playing with the ends of your head while your breaths and heartbeats found the other’s rhythm.

“Wanna suck on you”

“Get on your knees for me then,” he demanded after a moment staring at you, trying to hide in his smile the excitement that flooded through his body.

You removed your body from his finding balance on his shoulder, lowering down to your knees on the carpet with the help of his arms around you.

He looked so, so beautiful like this. His prince hair and strong shoulders outerlined by the glowing moonlight that touched his back. His arm muscles tensin when one palm rested on his thigh and the other lowered down to finger-kiss your face. The “thank you, I love you” look he had on his eyes the whole time you were together. Who wouldn’t get get on their knees for this?

“That’s it princess, comfortable there?” You nodded and spread his legs a little, giving you space to kneel closer. He gave you another peck on the lips and moved his hands to rest flat on the bed, giving you all the freedom to do your thing.

You started by running your hands up and down his thighs while kissing down his abdomen, the thick path of hairs on his belly tickling your lips. Slowly, your hand snaked to his boxers while your mouth kept him distracted, licking the angry veins on his happy trail.

You palmed him eagerly, the volume of his member filling your whole palm and a little more. This first contact was enough to earn a raspy groan from his chest and some beads of precum that pooled on the little wet patch between his tip and boxers, where you butterfly-kissed before finally putting his underwear down.

You used your hands to spread his precum down and pump him a bit, desperate to have him in your mouth, you kept moving up and down while your mouth lowered to wrap around his tip, nursing on it like it was your favorite lollipop.

Your messiness has Logan seeing stars. Spit and precum was all over your face already, tongue darting up and down his shaft with desire. He almost screamed when your fingers played with the very top of his head and you lowered your mouth to his balls, suckling each into your mouth carefully.

“Jesus baby, that’s my girl, fuck-“

But it wasn’t enough. You were starved for him, for his pleasure. You waited the whole day to see his mouth hanging in bliss and you also wanted him to have what he wanted. You took his mouth of off his balls and kept lazily stroking him, lashes batting up to meet his eyes, “Fuck my mouth?”

Logan couldn’t believe how such a cute thing like you could look so sexy saying such filthy words. He loved it.

“Are you sure?” You nodded.

He then motioned for you to scoot back a little so he could get up, positioning himself in front of you, now both of you in front of the bed, sides facing the window.

He could die like this. The last thing he would ever see in his life could easily be you, on your knees, fucked out face with his precum and spit all over your face, with the moonlight reflecting on your rounded eyes just waiting for him to love on you. And he would die peacefully.

“Gonna start real gentle, ‘kay?” he assured you while brushing your hair back to hold it in his hands, one wrapping around the strands at the back of your head and the other holding his member.

“Lemme see this pretty tongue, baby’” he waited for your mouth to hang open and positioned his tip on top of your waiting tongue, tapping and circling it there. Logan kept teasing you (and himself) for a moment like this, smearing the leaking tip of his cock all over your mouth, tracing your tongue and lips at a torturing pace until he understood the desperate look in your widened eyes and scrunched brows, a silent “please”.

“Shh, gonna give you what y’want, princess. Suck on the tip, hm? Just the tip. Like you were doing before,” you loved when he ordered you around like this, especially when he looked so big towering over you and his voice was so low and deep like it was right now. You wasted no time in closing your already plump lips around him and deliciously suffocating his bulbous head in your mouth.

“That’s it bub, fuck. That’s my girl,” he loved when you were so obedient like you were right now during sex, his own little princess. His free hand stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t enveloped by your lips, using the mix of your spit and his own precum that was everywhere by now.

Your hands left your lap to dig into his thighs and your movements started to get more shallow, eyelids heaving and lashes blinking slowly up at him. You knew what you wanted, and Logan knew too, and he was gonna give it you.

The hand that was on his cock moved up to hold your jaw and the back of your head, inclining it up a bit so your face was now completely turned to him. This simple move of his already made his cock slip a little further into your mouth, taking a moan from both of you.

“Shhh, angel, yeah, that’s it,” his firm hold in the back of your head allowed you to stop moving and he slowly started to move his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth carefully to not gag you. Not right now, at least. “Gonna give it to you slow, baby. You can take it, can’t you?” He knew an answer for you wouldn’t be exactly available at the moment, but you gave your best to manage out a nod, “know you can, bub.”

Logan kept his pace for a while before roughening and fastening it a bit to prepare you, tightening his grip on your head and steading the movements of his hips, his cock now halfway into your mouth, in and out, in and out. He felt your lips and throat loosening and the gagging sounds leaving your lips were driving him insane, his bones were on fire from keeping back and not just fuck your throat like he (and you) wanted.

When his tip kissed the edge of your throat you let your eyes close and your hands fall to his calf, letting him know you were ready, “just a bit more, sweet girl, just-“ his tip entered your throat with ease, curving a bit to follow its anatomy. When your lips finally touched the hairs on his base and his whole cock was seated into your hot mouth, he stilled completely.

You could hear his heavy breathing as if he ran a marathon in five minutes. The silence between the two of you letting you know that if he said or did anything he was surely cuming at that right moment. Logan’s eyes were closed and his head turned to the ceiling, brows furrowed trying to contain himself.

Your fingers caressed his leg slightly, reminding him you were ready, and when his gaze turned down to give you attention, dark and serious, like a big wolf preying down a little bunny, you knew what he was feeling. It faded quickly though when his eyes found yours, his rough expression turning into a smile, “you’re my best girl, aren’t you? That’s what y’wanted babe? To choke on my dick?”

You blinked your eyes assuringly, the heaviness of your eyelids taking a sexy, deep laugh from his chest. His hand left your head momentarily to caress your cheek with the back of his point finger, “think you can swallow for me?” he whispered.

You’ve done that before, and the feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced, the both of you. And you felt that it was coming by the calm and patient way he was dealing with you tonight. Logan was always careful to ask for things that edged your limits, always trying his best to keep you safe and comfortable. And who were you to deny the birthday boy what he was asking for?

You prepared yourself and slowly clenched your throat, suffocating his tip in the curve of it. Tears involuntarily pooled and fell from your eyes with the overstimulation and the feeling of oh, being so full of him, of his cock angrily pulsing in the whole extent of your mouth and now your throat. Logan’s eyes turned to the back of his head and his mouth hanged open, his fingers flexing in your hair to not lose control.

“O-one more time ba-“ and before he could even finish his sentence you were swallowing him down again, this time earning a loud and raspy groan from him, “fuck! baby, c’mon,” he carefully pulled himself from your mouth, cock hanging angry and desperate from your activities. “Need to feel you,” and kissed you hungrily.

He pulled you by your arms and intertwined them around his neck, tapping your bum slightly in a sign for you to jump in his lap. Logan was careful to drop you on the bed, never parting your lips and laying with his whole body weight on top of you. The hairs on his chest feathering over your nipples and the kiss of his tip over your folds were growing in you a type of desire you couldn’t quite decipher.

Sweat, spit and love were everywhere, your bodies swayed under the moonlight as if you were one. While your tongues fought for space into the other’s mouth, he reached a hand down and starting to thumb your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure that had your mouth unplugging from his with a whine. When you felt his head finally circling your hole, you released him and turned around.

“Like that?” Logan watched as you switched positions, large palm finding your lower back while you placed yourself tummy down on the bed. “Can we?” you whispered, looking at him over your shoulder.

Logan smiled; if you kept being this cute he was going to fuck the sense out of you without effort. His other hand reached behind your knee and lifted it, giving him more easy access to you. Positioning himself into your entrance, he slipped his cock up and down your folds, your juices mixing in a squelching sound.

When he felt your hole flutter and your eyes close, your smaller fingers gripping the sheets, he reached up and kissed a drying tear in your cheek, “shhh baby, g’na go slow, ‘kay?” you nodded. There’s no exaggeration, Logan was big. Big and wide and veiny and filled you in all the right places.

The moment his head eased into you, you were seeing stars. The way your walls spread to welcome his girth made your mind fuzzy and all your senses heightened, the moan he left ecoed in your brain and the touch of his hand embracing yours burned like fire. He slowly pressed forward until his cock was perfectly engulfed inside you, both his member and your walls pulsing in unison.

“Move,” you mewled, fingers gripping his thumb in need. Logan used the hand on the small of your back to balance himself, starting to pump in an out at a perfect pace; not so fast but not so slow, deep, deep as he could to kiss every inch of your cunt and rearrange your insides.

“Pussy so warm, angel. Gripping me so tight,” he sad in your ear, “my little sweet gift.”

Stars exploded all the way down your spine, the fullness of his cock pumping your pussy and the weight of his body pressing on top of yours drove you over the edge, your walls gripping him tightly while you came, bringing his thumb into your mouth.

“That’s it, sweet girl, come for me,” he kissed your temple, “gush this cock, it’s all yours,” Logan slowed his pace inside you to let you calm down, caressing your hair and distributing kisses around your teary eyes.

“Think you can take a bit more, princess?” he whispered gently in your ear, his cock still throbbing inside you, “just a bit and I’ll be done. So I can fill your pussy up and good? Keep you full and plugged with me, hm?” You nodded with his thumb still between your lips and felt his hips meet your ass again.

It was so good. The overstimulation had you throbbing nonstop and your head in the clouds. Logan’s groans and moans were music to your ears along with his “that’s it, princess, fuck”, “whose’s pussy is this, hm? All mine to fuck and love on, ain’t it?”, “yeah, baby, that’s my sweet girl. Taking it so good f’me”, until he himself could take anymore, his cock pulsating and balls stiffening, until his voice got muffled by a low groan and you felt his seed fill you completely, gushing your insides and spilling down and off your walls.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered, tired. His forehead rested on your temple as you both calmed down, breathing harmonised. Logan awaited until you opened your eyes and delicately pulled his thumb from your mouth, brushing your hair off of your face.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you reciprocated, receiving a little peck on the lips, that turned into many many kisses all over your face while his palm messaged your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. Gonna pull out now, ‘kay?”

While Logan left to the bathroom to clean himself and find a cloth to clean you, you rested your chin on your forearms and stared up at the full moon through the window, sweetly reminiscing the last hour and thanking her for him. On moments like these all your mind could process was Logan Logan Logan.

“Here, bub,” he carefully whipped the fluids from your pussy, the pair of you giggling when you clenched in sensitivity, “c’mon, I draw the bath.”

You hand Logan spent another hour in the warm bath, cleaning and caressing and stealing kisses while the bubbles danced on your skin. You rested your head on his chest and lifted one finger, using the others to simulate a lighter to lit up the “candle”. “Here, make a wish,” you motioned it in front of his face, taking a laugh from him, who closed his eyes and made some funny faces to amuse you. He then blew your finger and playfully bit it, “what did you wish?”

“Well, I can’t tell you, can I?”

You kissed him and closed your eyes, laying back to your position on his shoulder.

“You. You’re my only wish.”

🎀🎀🎀

[starmocha]

I have no friends that play lads and after the trailer with Caleb my mind is in ruins and all i can think is arranged marriage between Colonel Caleb and his general's daughter. Ughh the tension and the dramaaaaa.

Thats it, thats all i had to say, thank you for coming to my ted talk (i really needed to yap about that to someone) 😂😂😂😂😂

🥹 Anon~ come back. Let's chat some more. I'll entertain all of your Caleb brainrots 🫶 You should also know that I saw this message this afternoon while I was out shopping.......the high-pitched gasp I had let out in public, because why is this right up my alley 😭😭😭 Ok I originally thought out like the whole situation in bullet points, but writing this one scene gotten out of control, because why did I get so into it, so I guess...consider this a snippet of sorts (it's kind of messy, but I was rushing)? 🫣 (or should I polish this up and repost it as an actual fic? I'm really digging this premise, if I'm honest 🤔)

You didn't have a say.

You didn't agree to this marriage. The General—your father, you remind yourself, often feeling emotionally estranged from the man who has never once raised you, viewing you as secondary to his military career—has arranged for you to wed his colonel.

Colonel Caleb. He is young, ambitious, and with a bright future ahead of him. He will rise through the ranks quickly, many believe. No one is surprised that the young man is betrothed to the general's daughter. It seems only right that such an esteemed union should happen, bringing two honorable families together.

You didn't have a say.

The General—your father, you correct yourself again, your nerves getting the best of you—is walking you down the aisle, his arm looped around yours—tightly. The organ is playing the Wedding March. Why does it sound like a dirge?

All eyes are on you, the blushing bride in her beautiful pristine white, lacy long-sleeved demure wedding gown. You didn’t choose this. You didn’t want to wear this dress. You didn’t want to wear this style. This isn’t you.

You didn't have a say.

The guests are all part of the military. You don't know these people. They're the General's—Father's—acquaintances. His peers, his colleagues. Subordinates and superiors. They are all acquaintances of his. Who are these strangers?

"Don't mess this up," he whispers under his breath as you approach your waiting groom, dressed in his most formal uniform for this nuptial. This is his only fatherly advice as he gives his one daughter's hand away—to a man she doesn't even know.

You don't have a say.

The ceremony proceeds without a hitch. You didn't look at your groom, or rather, you barely registered the man in front of you. You had moved through the motion, did everything you were supposed to, just like in the pre-rehersal ceremony, but you weren't there. It was like your mind had slipped away, and your body was just moving along on autopilot.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest declares.

Your mind returns, and you still when he kisses you. There is cheering and applause. You aren't happy. Is he happy?

You close your eyes, just letting this happen. It will be over soon. Just let it happen.

You don't have a say.

His arm loops through yours, leading you back down the aisle. There is more cheering and applause, and as you leave the church, the sun shines brightly on your marriage, and flower petals are tossed in the air, raining down over you and your groom.

There is so much joy and congratulations. Why then does it feel like the end of the world?

You don't respond, your face unwittingly tucking away into his arm as he leads you away for the wedding reception.

You don't even remember the reception. Did it even happen? Did you eat? Danced? Were there speeches or well-wishes? What did the wedding cake taste like?

You don't remember.

It was mid-afternoon when you had left the church, but now suddenly nightfall came without warning. How did that happen?

You exit a car, your hand in his.

This is a hotel. Right. A hotel.

It's your wedding night. A marriage is consummated on the wedding night. That is how it typically goes.

You have to consummate your marriage. You have to...sleep with your newly-wedded husband. Your husband. Caleb.

You didn't want to consummate this marriage. You didn't even want to get married. But you couldn't say no. You couldn't say no to any of this, and now, you know you also couldn't say no to him.

You don't have a say.

His hand is so much bigger than yours, you notice, as he holds yours, silently guiding you to your honeymoon suite.

Every step, every action, brings you closer to that moment. You barely register anything, not even hearing the beep when Caleb swipes the key card on the digital lock of the suite.

You're led into an extravagant suite. There is a vase of red roses and champagne chilling in an ice bucket, all courtesy of the hotel.

Still, you don't feel like you are in the moment, being completely lost in your head. You have to sleep with him. You didn’t want to marry him. You don't want to be married. You don't want to sleep with him. You don't want him.

You don't have a say.

He pours you a glass of champagne. You drink it, hoping it will calm your nerves. It doesn't. You feel like you are slipping, thoughts running haywire.

"You look very beautiful," he says, his hand brushing away the loose strands of hair that framed your face. His hand cups your face, his lips on yours before you even realize what is happening.

He sets the glasses to the side, taking you to bed. You sit on the edge next to him, his lips on yours again. You're not responding. He stills, but just for a moment. Did he notice? He continues, his lips along your neck, his hand reaching behind you for the zipper of your wedding dress.

You feel a chill.

He undresses you, lays you on the bed, completely exposed to him. You're not registering anything, breathing shuddering as he looms over you, slowly undressing himself now.

This is happening. You can't say no. Just go with it. It will all be over soon. Just do your duties. Just drift away, and it will all end soon.

He leans down and kisses you again, and you don't respond. His hands explores you, and you close your eyes, trying to think of anything but this moment. You don't even realize that you are tensing until he stops.

"You're...crying?"

You gasp, eyes opening in shock when he brushes your tears away. He looks hurt. Why?

He kisses your forehead. "We don't have to do this," he reassures you.

You don't understand. This is expected. You can't say no. You couldn't say no to any of this. You can't say no to him either.

"We...don't?" You find your voice, as small and scared as it was.

There is so much sadness in his eyes. Why?

He smiles. There is no joy. He smiles and shakes his head.

"But...I...have...to....we have to..."

He is confused. "Says who?"

Is he really expecting an actual response? You feel lost and confused.

"Every...everyone," you answer him.

He huffs and shakes his head again. "We don't have to," he says again. "I won't force myself on you if you're uncomfortable."

"But...we are married—"

"We are married," he says firmly, "You are my wife, and I am your husband. What happens—or doesn't happen—behind closed doors is our business. Not anyone else's."

But people will talk. Time will pass, and people will start wondering why you aren't pregnant yet. That is how it goes, right? First comes marriage and then comes the baby carriage, or however the fuck it's supposed to go. You have to go through with this, the whole nine yards, or people will talk.

The military is full of secrets, but rumors will still snake their way throughout until it reaches your father. If he knows, he will blame you for embarrassing him in front of his colleagues. For being a worthless daughter who couldn't do this one thing right.

You have no say in this. You can rebel all you want, but he will always make you cower in the end and bend to his will, just like how this marriage has happened.

"We have to," you tell Caleb, surprising him, "I'm...I'm okay with this."

You gasp when he pulls you up and into his arms, your face pressed to his chest. His hand is big, you think again, feeling it stroking the back of your head, but you also realize it is so gentle. He is so much bigger than you, can easily overpower and overwhelm you, but he doesn't.

He is so, so gentle with you. Why?

You don't even realize you had started crying, your body trembling against his, until he asks, "Are you scared of me?"

And you pause, breathing still shaky.

He continues to rub the back of your head. He sighs suddenly, and he whispers into your hair, "You don't have to be scared of me. I won't hurt you. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

"It’s...not you," you say eventually, still unsure if you were being completely truthful with him. "It’s..."

You falter, unsure of where your fears truly lie. Him? The Gener—Father? Or...everything?

He shushes you again. "Don't worry about anyone else. Just trust me."

You look up hesitantly, your tears blurring your vision. He brushes away those tears.

You're looking at him. Truly looking at him for the first time.

His eyes are violet, you realize suddenly. They are so pretty.

"I'll protect you," he promises, "I'll keep you safe, so please....please don't be scared of me."

[baepsays]

Cherry liqueur ⸻ Gojo Satoru.

INSPIRED BY THIS ART, BY: @/shimisstuff

cw: blood, to be more specific-period blood, oral sex, eating out (while reader is on their period), no use of specific pronouns, description of fem anatomy, fingering, m! masturbation, freak Satoru really, use of words like 'whore' 'slut' as a tease, use of terms of endearment, pussy slapping (sorry i love that shit), kind of some cum play :p, ye just nsfw stuff proceed with caution!, minors do not interact.

Gojo did not care for the color red. He really likes the color blue, as self centred as it may sound, he loves it. But even with his antipathy for the color red some of his most beloved things were colored red— like red velvet cake, strawberry jello, red macaroons always attract his attention first; something about red being a visually striking color which stimulates excitement or something — what he read. 

He particularly loved cherry pies. Beautiful crusty exterior and red gooey, sticky, bitter-sweet cherries inside. Anyone would think it is probably because he might like cherries. Which is not half wrong, he found his affinity for cherry desserts— specifically cherry pie and cherry liqueur cake, because his favorite red dessert is not always available at his disposal. And to frankly explain what is it? Your cunt, specifically when you're on your period. 

How did he find this— let's say unusual — affinity? It was very sudden, he was enjoying your saccharin taste on his tongue, nothing out of the ordinary. He truly enjoyed eating you out, savouring your taste way more than any average person may enjoy. He is the true definition of munch, this man could eat you, lick you, just smother his face in between your thighs for hours. That specific day you were really tired and he oh so kindly offered to perform oral on you to put you to sleep. He had cleaned you up in the bath, dressed you in your pajamas, laid you down on his plush bed, and ate you out like a starved man— a few mins in he suddenly tasted a new flavor spreading through his mouth. It was an uncannily identical flavor of cherry liqueur, a little less sweet but exactly bittersweet, slightly tart, overall very cherry.

You were too tired to even be conscious throughout the entire thing. You had passed out and it was only when he came up to catch a breath he realized that you started your period. Surprisingly it didn't deter him. He did go back in and finish you then cleaned you up once again, put on a pad in your underwear, cleaned up the sheets and himself. He particularly liked the look of himself covered in your blood reflecting back into his eyes. And the taste he could not forget or recreate. 

Since then he went on to practically begging you to let him taste you when you're bleeding. He seriously jumped up to the bed the day after that happened and went “please let me eat you out again.” 

And honestly you wouldn't say no, how can you ever deny your poor toru, then you realize the situation. That you're on your period and you had your period yesterday, this request of his is basically because he ate you out with arousal, blood and all things nasty. So it took him some serious convincing, begging, and a really shitty day where your cramps were hurting so bad that even the meds didn't help— to let him eat you out again blood and all. So he eagerly offered a massage, then some whispering in your ears about how good it'll feel and how it'll help with the pain. Long story short you gave in. And he became an obsessed vampire.

This brings us here, where there is a big thick towel under you, and you are on his bed. Naked, back arched, thighs engulfing his entire head, his white hair pushed back with his black headband. One time he was eating you out in similar circumstances with his hair down and he looked like a white cat who attacked a jar of jam. 

One of your hands clawed down on his shoulder, the other gripping the edge of the pillow under your head— trying to hold onto any semblance of sanity. 

“Ugh sweets. So sweet.” He rumbles in between your thighs right on your pussy. 

You were armed wordless, rid off of anything more than moans, grunt, sighs and whimpers. It did help that he pried your thighs off his head, with much reluctance—you best believe he would not die anywhere rather than right between your legs, breathless — he sits up, the sounds of his breathing heavy to even your senseless ears. He puts one of your ankles up on his shoulders, the other leg he hikes up to wrap around his waist. With a smear of red all across his cheeks, chin, and lips, he starts licking a stripe up from your ankle towards your thighs.

“Such a messy fucking whore for your toru right angel?” He says as he reaches your thighs and bites down lightly. 

“No answer? Huh. Have I slutted you out too hard? Hmm?” He lets out a slight chuckle, then continues to lick your inner thighs clean. He gathers all the blood and cum glistening around there, neat and blank to paint all over again. 

“P-please toru.” 

“Please what sweets?” He heaves out, clearly he is also having a hard time over here. But for the sake of prolonging your empty hazed up state of mind, asking and begging him to let you find your climax— that's how he found his own pleasure. 

“Need more.” you push yourself up on your forearms to look back at him, staring up at you with both your legs now hanging from his shoulder, eyes glowing in the abyss between your thighs.

“More? I give you my all and you still want more? My little insatiable whore.” His hand comes down to slap your clit, he gives it a second and puts down two more slaps right on your entrance. And you give out a loud screeching noise and fall back down on the bed. Gripping on his hair, headband, his hand which just slapped your pussy—now rubbing and tugging on your clit. 

“Honestly sweets say the word and I'll put the world at your feet.” He frees his hand from your grip, landing another little slap on your clit then slowly sliding a finger inside you. While all you can do is frail around and jerk from the shivers running down your body. His other hand, pulls his dick out of his boxers, then goes to gather some blood and cum dripping down your entrance and aids it as lube to jerk off himself. 

“MORE SATORU!” 

“More? Aw but I am giving you my all sweetheart, you want more? More of me? My fingers? Anything? Tell me. Say it. Ask me, beg me. Look me in the eyes and command me.” And you do, somehow bring yourself to look at him. With a huge grin adorning his face, his fangs on display, ready to suck up every drop of blood you bless him with.

“Put another finger in toru. Please make me come.” 

“As you wish and more, angel.” And his grin widens as he pushes, another finger in. He really does give you what you wish and more — because he puts a third finger in you, then turns all three of them up to find your spongy walls with the rough pads of his finger. He speeds up the other hand running up and down on his cock as he finds the said sweet spot. He moves both his hands at a matched speed, imaging your walls gripping on his dick while he thrusts in and out of you with the said dick, instead of his fingers. 

You don't have much in you, words or patience to hold back and time your climax with his. “ I am gonna cum toru, I am gonna- please. Please. Oh my goodness, please Satoru.” you cry out, begging him to let you cum.

“Do it sweets. Come all over my- Ha. Fingers. Come on. Be my good little whore. Won't you sweetheart?” He talks you into your climax and you come undone on his fingers, gripping down on all three of his fingers, but his movements do not stop. The squelching noise mixed with your moans and his pants are obscene. Maybe not as obscene as your cum mixed up with your blood. 

He fingers you through it all, until you finish and even when you're getting aftershocks— he does slow down and focuses more on pressing down on your walls than ramming through you. Once you stabilize a little he pulls his fingers out, which elicits a whimper out of you. 

He sits up again, he changes the hand gripping his cock. He positions his cock on your cunt, and proceeds to jerk himself harder, chasing his own climax, with the hand he used to just finger you. Your cum and blood— sticky and coated all over his cock. 

You lean back up to grip onto his neck, your foreheads touching, panting and whimpering into each other's mouth—tongues twirling around each other, you taste your cum and blood on him. Metallic and nasty, but you'd never hold back from giving him everything, even if it means kissing him in such a feral state. 

You lick the blood clean from the corner of his mouth, and that does it for him. He shoots ropes and ropes of cum all over your cunt. On your entrance, on your stomach, on your inner thighs— mixing up with the previously mixed in cum and blood. And he moans into your mouth throughout it all. Eyes shut, orbs of glowing blue hidden behind all that red smeared across his face.

“You are just the best dessert ever.” he says upon calming down a little and looking right into your eyes, then looking down at the mess between you two.

“Should I get another towel? Come on my dick next.” Nevermind. Maybe you two are capable of much more obscenities.

Safe to say, maybe Satoru is not so apathetic towards the color red. Especially when it tastes so sweet to him. 

a/n: dividers by @/omi-resources & @/sister-lucifer. wasn't gonna write then aashi (@fushitoru) beloved sent that ask and how can i ever deny her <3 AND THANK YOU SM TO SHIMI FOR LETTING ME USE THE ART!!! please check out more of her art! it is so beautiful!!

to access more of my works-click here.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔*

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Fluffy Smut

Warnings: Daddy!Chan, Face sitting, Oral (F), Slight choking, Slight ass/pussy slap, Creampie, Unprotected sex. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings!

A/N: made this for my beloved’s birthday today! Love yooou and hope you’re having a great day! @hyunjins-orange-slice-too

-🌸

Today was your birthday, you had the whole weekend off for it! Chan had taken the same time off so he could spend it with you. He had let you sleep in this morning waking you up with your favorite breakfast in bed. He curled up in bed with you watching your favorite movie as you both ate.

He had a whole day planned for the two of you. Talking you to your favorite restaurant, then to the arcade you like, and ending it with a fort in the living room. He had picked out cute matching outfits for the both of you. Giving you your present along with it. A little necklace with a heart, the back of the heart had his handwriting on it. Etched into it was yours and his initials that said “to the moon and back”.

God he really was trying to make you cry. He ways looked at you with such love but today he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Telling you “today’s the day the love of my life was born”.

He showered you with so much love today, as he always did anyways just up a notch. Holding you close as you walked through some shops before dinner. He saw your eye light up at a cute little stuffie but not saying anything. “You want it princess?” He asked sweetly.

“It’s okay daddy, you’re already doing so much for me today.” You’d say smiling up at him. But you knew he wasn’t having it.

“Pick the color and I’m getting it” he said.

It was never a use of arguing with him, anything you could ever want that man was happy to provide for you.

Stuffie in hand, you headed to the restaurant having your favorite meal. He told you over and over how much he loved you. “My beautiful angel, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have such an amazing person as mine. I love you so much. You’re like the stars in my sky, always shining so brightly. So pretty”.

After eating your headed to the arcade. Where Chan single handedly won everything you wanted. He was really good at claw games and even if he wasn’t he wasn’t gonna not get it for you. You left the arcade with 7 additional stuffies amongst other things he had won.

He had the fort built so fast too, since it was something he loved doing with you. He had everything under the fort. Snacks, drinks and a small cake of course your favorite flavor. You always wondered how he’d remembered everything. “Before we get in I think we are missing something” he said with a sweet smile. He pulled out a box with matching PJs, the backs saying daddy and daddy’s princess on them. Something you had saved in your Amazon.

You both got all dressed, devouring the cake as you watched a movie. Chan had you lying on his chest rubbing your back. “Happy birthday princess, I love you so so much” he purred.

“Thank you daddy, it was the best” you said smiling up at him.

“You get everything you wanted?” He asked

“Mostly” you said with a little grin.

“Oh yeah? What is it missing?” He asked cocking his head to the side.

“I didn’t get you” you said with a little giggle.

“Hmm. But you got me Princess”

“That’s not what I mean” you pouted.

“Use your big girl words then, tell daddy exactly what you want.” He cood.

“I want you. Want- want you to- ugh” you sighed “I want you to fuck me” you said softly.

“That’s what my baby wants?” He said a smirk growing on his face.

“Please daddy” you said puppy eyes at max.

“How can I tell my pretty girl no? Especially on her birthday.” He said pulling you to him kissing you ever so lovingly.

He pulled your body on top of his, cradling you in his arms. His hands slowly made their way up and down your body pulling you deeper into the kiss. His pretty hands gripped at your ass before pushing his hips up into you. Both of you groaning into the kiss. “Princess tell me exactly what you want”

“I want you, want daddy to- to take care of me” you said with puppy eyes. He grinned before moving his body underneath of you. He kissed down your body pulling your PJ bottoms. He let out a low groan seeing how wet your panties were. He licked a long strip up them making you moan softly. He pulled down your panties slowly before kissing your thighs. He peppered them with little kisses and nibbles before his arms gripped your thighs.

He slowly licked up your folds his hands pulling your cunt apart. He pushed his tongue into you before groaning. “Baby sit your whole body down on me. Sit like a good girl” You did as you were asked making him grin against your body. He buried his face into you lapping at everything you offered. “Good girl, now- can you touch your pretty clit for me?” He asked.

“Mhm” you moaned out your hand roaming down your body, rubbing against your clit softly. “Now use me baby, use my tongue. Make a mess.” He purred. And you did. You moved your hips against his mouth body starting to shake from pleasure.

“D-daddy close” you moaned head falling backwards.

“Cum for me princess, fuck- make a mess on daddies face” he said slapping your ass softly.

His tongue was so deep inside you licking fast. Your legs started to shake as you came hard. Hard against his tongue trying to pull away from to lay down from how hard you came you were only met with Chans strong hands keeping you in place. “Gotta clean you baby- fuck can’t waste any of it” he said lapping everything up.

When he was satisfied how clean you were he layed your body down. His lips slamming against yours. He couldn’t hold back anymore stripping himself of his close before rubbing his cock up and down your folds. “You remember to use your words if you need to stop.” He said sternly. When you nodded he let a soft smack to your tits “words. I need to hear you.”

“Yes daddy. I know the- the word” you whimpered.

With that he pushed into you. He wanted to go slow he really did but fuck you were already sucking him in so well. His was fucking you hard, his hand slinking up to your neck. Applying pressure as he made you look at him. “Such a good girl, taking me so fucking well” he groaned. “My pretty girl. Fuck I love you.”

“Love you too daddy, s’much” you managed to get out. His hand let go of your neck, pushing your legs forward as he fucked into you deeper. You could feel his balls smacking against your ass his cock already twitching inside of you. “Daddy- daddy! Close!” You almost screamed.

“Give me your hands Princess.” He said reaching out interlocking your fingers together. “Want daddy to cum with you?” He said his eyes soft as he stared down at you lovingly.

“Yes- please- together-“ you stuttered out head spinning. He leaned down kissing you lovingly as he moved. His cock hitting deep against your cervix. You were seeing stars at this point you wrapped your legs around his back pulling him somehow deeper. “Daddy!” You almost screamed.

“Cum with me baby- fuck- cum with me!” He moaned. Both of you came hard. His cock twitching inside of you filling your pretty cunt full as you came around his cock.

He pulled you close to him holding you tightly as you both came down from your intense orgasms. “You ok princess? Here take a sip of water” he said grabbing the bottle beside you. “I didn’t go too hard on you did I?” He asked moving a piece of hair from your face.

“It was just as perfect as you daddy” you giggled. He smiled kissing your forehead “i love you princess. Happy birthday.”

“I love you too daddy! So very much.”

The rest of the night was filled with cuddles and a long warm bath with soft music and candles. Both of you tangled together in the water.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143

[hyukascampfire]

𝓜ILK WITH YOUR COOKIES? ､. c.sb

too excited to sleep on christmas night, the last thing you might've expected was to find a very tall, very handsome man with arms full of gifts broken into your home. also, for him to claim himself to be santa claus. ࣪˒ ࿔

゛◞͈ ⧼ 🧦 ⧽ ･ 5.8k

𝓹airings ˒ santa!soobin x reader

𝑔 ; smut

𝔀arnings ˒ general smut, cum eating, breast worship, mentions of titty fucking, soobin watches reader play with themselves without their knowledge, fem!reader, cumming on belly, whiny soobin kinda, soobin is... well, santa, possessiveness, usage of the word whore

✎୭ ashlynn's note guys. please promise me you won't imagine an old man when you read this. LMAOO. this is the first day of the event! tell me how you guys feel abt it :3

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

All wrapped up in the covers, you try to close your eyes and just let it happen. You really do. The mattress beneath you is soft and embraces you with warm, oh-so-welcoming arms, and the fireplace crackles from the living room. You’d left the door cracked, only a little bit, just so that the sounds might lull you to sleep. 

Despite all the efforts you’d put into a perfectly cozy, perfectly sleepy, night, your mind wanders each time you let your lashes fall to your cheeks. You try and soothe it over with fuzzy visions of waking up in the morning to the world outside your window dusted white and your tree, all alight and sparkling, made full with gifts wrapped in swirling red paper.

Well, if you were sleepy before, you’d lost it now. 

Perhaps you’re far too excited for Christmas. Especially for your age—a full grown woman too giddy to sleep on Christmas eve? It’s ridiculous. But those warm, flickering memories of Christmas mornings with your family are close to your heart. Bounding down the stairs on bare feet to go stick them by the fireplace to defrost, pulling woolen, knitted stockings off the mantle when your parents told you to check for coal, and then after it all, finally sitting crisscrossed around the tree. The smell of whatever spiced thing your mother would be warming over the fire and the sharpness of the pine needles—you think that there is nothing better. It was such a simple time. 

You push yourself up off the bed, hair mussed with relentless tossing and turning. Slipping out from the covers, you don’t even bother fixing it. The wood flooring creaks beneath your weight. Through your woolen stockings, the ones you’d pulled on just before bed so that you might stay toasty should the fire die out, it greets you nice and pleasantly warmed. 

Down the hallway you shuffle, smoothing over your cotton sleep dress and tugging your fingers through tangles of hair. Three hours; three hours you’d been curled up in your bed, alternating between inspecting your ceiling and walls as if you’d never seen them before and trying to think sleepy thoughts. You can really only handle so much of that. 

Starting in the afternoon, as soon as the sun began yawning and blinking bleary eyes to give way to the moon, you had worked dutifully on whipping up some Christmas desserts. Baking platterfuls of warm goodies was something your mother did for your family every Christmas eve. Bowl in hand, and wafts of gingerbread and fruit cakes twirling sweet and warm up to your nose, those memories were all you could think of. Your heart aches in your chest. This day doesn’t feel the same celebrating by yourself. You’d hung garlands down from doorframes and done such a beautiful job on the tree, but you’d done it all. Alone. You’d done all your baking alone, too. 

So, though you don’t have the faces of family around, not even a boyfriend, to eat them with... You’ll eat tbe excess alone. You’d always been the type to go all tired with a full belly, anyway. Maybe it’ll help you get to sleep. 

The counters are a beautiful spread of your day’s work. Cinnamon cakes made even sweeter with a warm, sugary drizzling, fruitcakes of raisin and dates, glazed fruits all fat and ready to make your fingers sticky as you enjoy them, all on silver filigree platters. Beside it all, you place your candle, the lengths of it decorated with rivulets of wax melted down and then gone solid once more. You sift between them, fingers itching for something hearty. 

From behind you, there’s a shuffling. It’s slight. Firewood burnt down to nothing shifting and falling, most likely. You peruse the platters—the glimmering, glazed nuts, or mahogany cakes? You almost decide, but, with another rustle, you cannot pretend it was nothing this time. You turn on your heel. 

There, in your living room, stands a man.  

A very tall, very frozen man. With features soft, he looks as though the warmth and coldness of Christmas personified both. Wide, brown eyes return a look very similar to what you assume yours might be. In his hands, he holds a box wrapped in papers—one that looks as though it would belong so well beneath your tree. 

Frozen way down to your bone, you don’t really know what to do. Do you scream? Would the family in the home across from yours hear you? As a young, unwedded woman, and their neighbor, you think they might help you. They’d always seemed to like you well enough. How’d he even find his way into your home anyway? You don’t leave doors unlocked. 

For a few more long moments, the two of you stare at each other. Strangely, he seems just as rattled as you.

“Who are you?” you say, voice wavered in just the way someone’s might if they found an unknown man in their home. He doesn’t look scary. Not by a long shot. With warm eyes of hot chocolate and hair the fluffy brown of any girl’s dreams, he does not look scary at all. You might even say he looks delicious. 

The stranger opens his mouth and closes it a few times. When he finally goes to speak, in a rounded cheek you spy the twitching of a dimple. It’s soft in his face, just like the rest of him. His ears burn red. “You’re not supposed to be awake,” he says, a waterfall of nervous laughs falling out along with it. 

You, just as frozen as you’d been when you’d first turned around to find him there, frown. Not supposed to be awake? What is that even supposed to mean? You tug at the hem of your night dress. You’d pulled it on thinking that nobody would see you in it, and especially not a man. An intruding man, at that. It’s thin and comfortable, falling at a spot on your thigh that’s good for movement, but not for wearing in front of a strange man. Definitely not. 

“What do you mean?” you say, stricken in place. As much as your heart beats like a wild, caught animal in your chest, sending liquid energy right through your veins, you cannot move. It’s no different from the deer that, instead of darting between the trees to escape a pouncing predator, sits utterly still hoping that maybe they’ll go unnoticed. But this is not the wild, and that does not work here. You probably look more like you’re a blinking, stupid mess than anything. You say, “Get out of my house, or I am going to scream. Get out.” 

Who wants to deal with this on Christmas eve night? Somebody breaking into your home, hoping to get lucky with the presents littered under the tree? Of all the evil things, that might just be the worst. You could not imagine rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and scurrying over to the tree, just to find it utterly bare. 

He laughs again, waving a hand in the air fast and nervous. “I—don’t worry! I’m not going to hurt you! I just... uh, well, you see...” His words twist and tumble over each other, each racing to come out before the next. “This... usually doesn’t happen, and... Nobody ever wakes up,” he says. “You’ll forget about this in a moment.” 

You look him up and down. The Christmas-red suit, all suede and heavy, the heavy black boots, the cuffs of white tufted fur—you’re not stupid. Maybe shaken, but not stupid. Taking a step back, you say him with measured words, “What are you, some kind of freak that breaks in to people’s homes on Christmas to pretend you’re Santa, or something? A thief?”

Over his soft eyes, his brows shoot up. Still holding the present, he steps toward you with his free hand up to show he means no harm. “No—no, really, you don’t need to be scared. I’m... okay, you might know me as something different, but my name is Soobin. I’m just supposed to be dropping these gifts off, and I’ll be on my way. You won’t even remember you saw me.” 

And, there he goes again, saying that you’ll forget you saw him. Whatever that means. You might be alarmed by his words, and really, you ought to be. But you feel more intrigued than anything. He’s got kind, playful eyes. Maybe the kind that are meant to disarm you before stealing from right under your nose, though.  

What really gets you is that he thinks you might know him. By some other name, or whatever. You’ve never seen him, or another face like him, anywhere in or around your village. The people here do not look like that. Their faces are marred by a life spent working for their upkeep, hands flecked with the weight of their professions. This man? He looks as though he’s never lived a hard day in his life. No wrinkle or scarring—his face is beautifully smooth. You’d know any face, you know everybody here. And you do not know him. 

“I don’t think I believe you,” you say. “And, won’t remember? What’s that supposed to mean?” You hover somewhere between the kitchen and the tree, all lit up with flickering candles.

He closes his eyes, a resigned puff of a laugh falling from his mouth. Soobin shakes his head as he tells you, “Guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you. I’m Santa. Claus. Santa Claus. That’s what you’d know me by.” He pushes his brown, horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “I don’t get caught. Usually. I don’t know why you were still awake.” Hot cocoa strands of brown hair dust just about his eyes as he takes your form in. 

Right from your chest, a scoff like a laugh comes tumbling. Santa Claus. Seriously, this guy is weird. And, he’s in your home. However he’d gotten in. Shuffling back a few steps for good measure, you say, “Santa Claus. You’re Santa Claus.” 

Brows knitted, he nods his head. As if it were obvious that he was Santa Claus. 

Yeah, okay.

It’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that you have to laugh again, full-chested and in his face this time. “If you don’t leave my home, I’m...” You trail off. You’re not sure what you’ll do this time, but you’ll do something. Maybe laugh a little more at him. 

His eyes drink your form in once more, lingering over the softer parts for a few long moments. Your chest, to be more specific, where you’re sure your nipples peek through where your dress moves over it. When his eyes snap back up to your face, he says, “There’s no need for that. Would you like proof?” 

You arch an inviting brow at him. You’d like to see him try to give you any sort of proof that he’s Santa Claus. That might just be entertaining.

“Well,” he says, setting a present down beside the tree. “If it’s down to that, I know that earlier this year, you and that boy slipped into the barn when you thought nobody was looking. But of course, I knew. That was the first naughty tick you gave yourself this year.” 

Stood only perhaps a step or two ahead of you now, you have to crane your neck to meet his gaze. Slowly, talking to him, you’d started loosening up. But now, you go all rigid again, your face paling. There’s absolutely no way he’d know that—considering the fact that you’d not seen him before this very moment, and that you had done a very thorough scan of the area at the time. You go to answer him, but he’s quick to continue. 

“Are those cookies set out for me?” he says, tilting his head up in a pointing gesture. “If you’re such a believer, why do you not believe that I am him?” 

There a number of thoughts and curiosities clogging rational thought in your mind. This time, instead of brushing him off with a patronizing, sneering laugh, you say, “Well. I... They weren’t... for you. I don’t believe in Santa.” 

“You don’t?” he says, brows furrowed as he looks down at you. “Not even as he stands right in front of you? Tell me: how would I know that you touch yourself in the middle of the night, when you think nobody might know, and you’re in your bed all alone? How would I know exactly how you sound while you do?”  

A strange, strangling fog curls over your thoughts and renders them gone. You don’t even know what you would say to that. Maybe he could just say that about anybody, and it might be true, but the conviction and truth hanging heavy in his gaze as he looks at you with it... You think he means it. You don’t know what that makes you—stupid, or so incredibly screwed.  

The counter at your back gives your heart a startle. Suddenly, you’ve got nowhere to escape his serious eyes. “I don’t... I didn’t...” 

His smile goes taunting. “No cookies, and lying...” he hums. “I don’t think this is the best way to behave when I’m here, dropping off your presents. I even made exceptions this year, just so I could stop by here. I don’t stop for naughty listers.” 

Your face burns. Your skin burns, under that look he’s giving you. The space between you burns, too.  

“I don’t think I was bad,” you say. It’s out before you can really even rationalize it, or any of this. All you can contend with are the furious, fiery butterflies that twist your belly up into knots. The ebbing of something consumptive and hungry between your thighs should concern you, too.  

His big, warm hands find perch on your hips. There’s not much between his touch and your skin—just your flimsy little dress. It feels just as though if he were kneading the bare flesh there, fingers digging crescents into the soft fat. Your breath does a few skips. He smells sweet like spiced musk.

“I think you know perfectly how naughty you were,” Soobin says, his face shedding every last bit of lightheartedness in exchange for something ravenous. His eyes fall on your mouth for just a blink, and then he’s looking right into you. Challenging. 

“Oh, please,” you say, pinching your brows into something falsely sweet and innocent. “I don’t think I do. Won’t you tell me, Santa?” You let the last part, his supposed title, twist out like accustion. Whether he’s Santa or not, you don’t care. Your blood whispers and begs for those hands to venture further in, right to the gnawing want that’s come alive deep in your core. It’s insane, you know that. Still, you follow its pleading.

For a short, lucid moment, his face twitches. And then he’s got your ass in his hands, swallowing it up in needy grabs, and then the cool surface of the counter is biting into the heat of your skin, and then his mouth falls over yours like the most fiery, most carnal Christmas gift. 

He eats up your gasps. His mouth is sure, but his hands are frantic and unmeasured all over you. Feeling up the lengths of your sides, sliding up the smooth of your back, cupping the back of your neck to pull you into licks and bites harder. His hands find your breasts the most, though. You can hardly even make sounds as he rolls his thumbs over your nipples and under the swell of them. He takes the weight of your tits into his hands.  

The dance of your mouths breaks off into panted, hot breaths fanning over faces. He readjusts you upon the surface without a care for the clattering of the platters. Fast and as though he’d been waiting for this, he moves down your neck in blazing licks and suckles. One of his hands takes the back of your head, and the other worships your chest. 

Against your skin, strained, he pants, “I waited just to come to your fucking house. Watched you playing around with those idiots—God, I hated to watch, but I couldn’t look away. Wanted to show you how much better you deserved to be treated. Even naughty girls deserve to cum, don’t they?” 

You’re a mewling, hazy mess, hardly able to register words. Especially ones as hard to wrap around as that. All you do is arch your chest into his hand, cheeks all flushed pink. All you want is for him to make good on that promise. Under his touches, you fully believe him. Not once had your escapades gotten you off correctly. His desperate touch brushes right over that tight ball of sexual frustration, unwinding it slowly. With each bit that he unravels you, you shudder. 

“You are a naughty girl, aren’t you? You sound so sweet when you cum. Can’t I hear it again?” he continues, each word hotter in your neck than the last.  

Your head is all light and floaty. Letting it dangle, you give him a meek and pleading, “Yes.” Every last square inch of you beats alive at the prospect of being watched in on as you desperately squirmed against your bed. By him, at that. And, that it had him all pent up like this. 

His hands fumble at the hem of your dress. Pulling it up and over of your thighs and then past your hips and then up your belly, he says, “My pretty baby deserves it. Gonna make you feel so good—wanna make you feel good.” When your dress is all bunched up over your chest, and the soft swells of your breasts are freed to the air and his eyes, a chill rakes over your blazing skin. Goosebumps raise up and down the entirety of you. 

Brown eyes gone different, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He rests a palm right at your ribcage, so eager to touch but also so eager to just... gawk. 

Pushing your posture to better display your tits for him, you say, “You… wanna touch them?” 

His gaze flickers up to yours and then back down, tracing over the sight of your hardened nipples against the soft, smooth mounds. “Fuck. Yes, I wanna touch them. Please?” he says, voice wavering. He brushes a thumb up under one. It’s an admiring, impatient touch. 

“Yes,” you whisper. A strange little secret between the two of you. “Please, Soobin.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He bends just enough to take a pebbled nipple into his mouth. The hot wetness against your eager skin—it douses you in oil and then sets you on fire. Your mouth drops open to allow a long, wavering whine passage. It tapers off into just open-mouthed, quiet gasps as he rolls his tongue around it, peppering kisses into the soft flesh of your breast. Below it, in the valley between, and then he kisses a path right back to your nipple. 

It’s so simple. His touch is reverent—not overwhelming. Just underneath your skin, it all tingles. It pleads for him to continue, to do more. 

Much to your dismay, he is pleased right where he is. With soft bites and drags of his nose, he ravishes your chest. And when he’s finally done and pulls away from your skin, you shiver at the brushing of cool air against the wet mess he’s left there. 

Heavy-lidded eyes find yours. Running his thumb over your bottom lip, he husks, “No cookies out for me...” He delivers a quick nip at your jawline.  

Under a brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your lower belly, you jolt with a tremor. You will your mouth into movement. “I don’t believe in Santa. Why would I set out cookies?” you say; an echo of what you’d said to him before. But this time, his hands are on you. You want to see how that might change things. 

With an abrasive scoff, he doesn’t disappoint. The corns of his lips twitch. “Let me put my hands on you. Fuck you. You’ll believe in him then,” he says, curling his fingers like bites finally into your bare, moldable hips. They receive the shape of his hands willingly. “Are you gonna thank me for making an exception? For stopping by your house, even though you’re filthy?” 

He brushes lower and lower. Keeping your voice on a tight leash, you tell him, “Please, touch me...” 

He laughs, nose crinkling in tease. “If that’s how you want to say thank you,” he says, “I’ll touch you. You’d like that, huh?” 

With that, he finally brushes over your cunt. Profanities spill out from his lips with the wetness that greets him there. Your body does a start at the touch. 

“Yes, please. I love it—for Christmas, please.” Your voice is thin and pleading. 

It’s all Soobin needs to hear to be sliding you off the counter. The world spins around you in a fuzzy, nonsensical blur of warm light. Against your chest, melded against it, the counter top bites cold.

“Fuck,” he curses, the sound coming from behind you. You can feel his gaze searing a trail down the arch of your back. For the nth time, your skin breaks out into a chill. Warm, tracing fingers smooth down the length of it, starting at the center of your shoulders, until he finds the swell of your ass. “Look at you, arching your back like a well-used slut. You really are needy, aren’t you? I knew it. I knew you’d be perfect. And you’re gonna let me fuck you straight, aren’t you?” The words come out hot on your skin, now. Right into the curve your shoulder. “Maybe fuck you so straight, you’ll be at the top of the nice list next year. A pretty little saint. Huh?” 

All you muster is a stupid, pathetic nod. You want nothing more. 

On your clit, the center of your pulsating need, there’s a chaste pinch. Your body revolts, hips twitching violently in escape. The squeak that it rugs from you is equally violent.

“I’m not sure I want that, though.” There’s a rustling behind you, a clinking of silvery metal and then a brushing of thick fabric. Hot and angry and heavy against you, he presses his cock to your clit. “I think I want you on the top of the naughty list, so I can come here and have this every year.” The mushroom tip of him swirling against your needy bud—it’s so much. So much. 

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll be bad for you, Soobin. Please. I want it so much...” You push your back further into a suggestive curve; begging. He’s led you all the way to the water. Won’t he just indulge you with a taste? You don’t care how stupid or ridiculous you sound. 

His hand ventures up the outside of your thigh, smoothing over warm skin, and then around the curve of your hip, and then across your lower belly. It settles and presses there. “Do you hear yourself?” he sneers, voice in your hair. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

The suggestive, almost-there weight of his cock at your hole gives way to the delicious slide of him into you. Each inch is easy and slick. Perhaps you might worry over how utterly drenched you are, but not when all you can feel echoing through your bones and your veins is him finally filling your emptiness. It feels like mercy, more than a gift or present. 

He pulls out of you before even bottoming out. You spin as best you can to see him, brows furrowed. The look you find on his face as you do tells you everything you need to know about how intentional that was. "Soobin, please.” You look up at him through your lashes, trying to goad him with pretty bats of your eyes. Your cheeks flush pink and hot—your whole body is hot. 

“Begging for cock,” he says, a saccharine grin over his mouth. “Such a nasty whore. Whores don’t get Christmas presents. Shouldn’t you thank me for giving you this?” 

You should feel offended. Scandalized, even. No man has ever spoken to you like this, and you wouldn’t have allowed it. But, coming from his mouth, it’s a strange thing. It lays over you heavy, twisted your inhibitions to naught. “Thank you,” you say, pressing your cheek into the cool counter top to combat the burn. “Thank you, so much. Please.” 

When he starts pushing back into you, the gates of heaven materialize in the black behind your eyelids. Curling your fingers around the edge, you savor each and every inch of him once more until you can practically taste it. And then some. He’s big; bigger than anything you’d ever had from the guys around here. How are you ever supposed to go back to that? 

Finally, his hips meet your ass. He takes a moment to shift, taking a handful of your hip to pin it right into the counter. So, you do too; you grip at the edge of the counter. And then he pulls out of you. For a brief moment, you forget how endowed he is. But, of course, he reminds you with a roll. His cock drags along your walls in a way you’ve never known: full. You are full. 

“Gonna ruin you, so that no matter how many times you let them in your bed, all you’ll want is me,” he says. His hips move slow, just so that he can make sure you hear and internalize every word. “And you’ll wait all year just for this, and you’ll think of my touch when you touch yourself.” 

You can’t answer, or say anything really, around your whimpers. His hips stutter, and then he begins thrusting into you with unabated vigor. Each collision of your dancing bodies is punctuated by the hollow smacking of skin. Those sounds and others, such as your whines as his cock nudges right up against that spot that’s got your thighs quaking, and his tense pants, consume the air where the serene crackling of fire had once ruled. 

Though you do try to reel it in, you really do, his hips find a certain angle that makes it all null. You claw at the hand he’s got pressed firmly to your belly. Beneath you, your legs tremble and shake where they dangle down, and your poor abused hip bones ache against the hard surface of the counter as he fucks you into it. The cabinets clatter with it. “Soobin,” you choke. 

With his cheek pressed to the top of your head as he sloppily pounds stars into your vision, he half growls, half whines, “So—so good around me. So good. I couldn’t wait...to help you out. Thank you, baby.” 

The tremor in it, and the absolute neediness, pierces through the haze and does something to you. His free hand runs over you frantically, and his thrusts turn to something less controlled and more bare. More raw. He’d been hitting that sweet, sweet spot before, but this is more insistent. His hand presses harder into your belly to hold you through it, the other one mapping every last square inch of your skin until he’s intimately familiar with it all, and then some. “Fuck,” he grits out. 

All of it, the flame and the blinding touches, go away for a moment. He pulls out from your heat. You go to push off the counter to complain, and you make it half off, but he’s spinning you around and has you hoisted, ass-to-tabletop before you can. Where your front had been, the surface is already body warmed beneath your ass and thighs. 

“Show me your tits,” he says, nudging your thighs open. “Fuck. Will you let me fuck them next time? They're my tits, right? They fit so well in my hands.” 

Between his panted whines and the slide of his cock back into you, you just let your head fall back and obey. Your legs cascade down, twitching and threatening to snap around his waist each time he brushes against that deep, gummy spot. You arch your back into his face and pull your teeth into your mouth, watching him.

He dives into your chest without ceremony. With a hand on one of your hips to steady you against his fucking, he takes a nipple into his mouth. Soobin rolls his tongue and nips with his teeth, all while working the knot in your belly tighter. Each time your chest jumps or concaves against a bite, he pushes you deeper into it with a hand at your back. 

Your voice is hoarse. Though your moans are sweet and whiny, you sound nasty. Deep in your stomach, rumbling and threatening in a way you are not familiar with, something dangerous swirls. Goosebumps usurp smooth skin at the presence of it. As much as you chase it with your hips, your fingers thread through the strands of his hair to brace for it—readying for it to both ruin and fix you.

The sight of him, face deep in your chest, only feeds more fuel into the fire. His lashes flutter against his pink cheeks. 

“You...” you start, cupping the back of his head into you. “H—fuck... Like my tits? Want them to be yours?” 

You’re not quite sure what you’re saying. Around his waist, the muscles in your thighs are taut and your spine tingles. Your head floats. The barrier between spoken word and true thought is eroded down by it all. What is left is utterly bare. 

He releases your nipple, so hard that it tingles, in a wet pop. Pressing his cheek to it as his hips stutter, he says, all nasally, “Yes. Yes, h—oh fuck, yes, baby.” 

His pathetic whines, fallen into the air all tense like the tightness you’re sure he feels in his belly, as you do in yours, have you digging your heels into the bottom of his spine. Urging him in deeper. Closer. 

Hands finding your hips like iron against the softness of powdery snow, his voice cracks. “Wait—no, shit! Baby, I’m gonna.... Holy shit, let me cum on your belly, baby...�� 

So, so very close to both exploding and imploding into violent, consuming bliss, you’re not one to deny him that. You let your thighs fall open, bracing against his biceps, and then just the slightest brush of his groin up into your throbbing clit has the world smearing into nothing around you. 

All of you, every last muscle, goes rigid in the wake of it. And then, with a brilliant, incandescent crashing of symbols and release, you cum. Deep in your thighs and up your back and right in your core, where you clamp down on him hard, you are wracked with twisting muscles. Alternating between desperate whines and being able to get no sounds out, you fight through the blistering presence of your orgasm. 

He watches you, eyes on every micro expression falling over your face, with blown eyes. And then, his hips stutter for the final time. In a frantic hurry, he slips out of you with an obscene pop. He holds his cock over you, fist working up and down it in slick, wet rolls. He lets his head loll back, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

You watch his belly go all tight, and his sweet face screw up tight. Then, from his weeping pink tip, he shoots sparkling, hot white spurts all down on your belly. It pools heavy and warm against your skin. 

Finally, he collapses boneless into your front. With his face notched into your neck, he slides his hand up and down his cock a few more times. You two pant into each other’s skin for a few long, exhausted moments. 

He finally pulls back to look you in the eyes, cheeks tinted pink and twitching with a dimple. He releases your hip with one hand, reaching behind you in search of something. When his hand reappears, he’s holding one of those cookies you’d baked hours ago.  

You go to ask him something snarky, like fucked yourself hungry? but you’re interrupted when he runs the cookie up your belly, scooping up ribbons of his cum like dipping cookies in milk. He brings it to your mouth. 

“Open up,” he says, a cheeky, lazy grin smeared over his mouth. “You like milk with your cookies, don’t you?”  

You gape at him, dumbstruck. Still, beside yourself, you open your mouth and take a generous chunk out of it. The musk of him melts down against the cinnamon and ginger snap in your mouth. You savor it on your tongue before making a show of swallowing it all down, holding his eyes. Soobin watches, hawklike, until you’ve got it down.  

“Still don’t believe in Santa?” he says, running a hand through your mess of hair.  

You’d believed in Santa the whole way through. But, he doesn’t need to know that. As he presses one chaste, parting kiss to your neck, you can only hope that Santa might make a generous stop by your place next year too. No matter how naughty you are.  

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note LIKE?? come back next yr pls, soobin.

﹙📋﹚ @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae , @bakugosbottombitch , @cherricola-star , @304files , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[quarterlifekitty]

cooking was mentioned but I kind of wonder how the cod men would react to reader bringing them cookies/some sort of pastry they know they like. Ive also had the idea of price getting turned on watching reader knead bread dough stuck in my head for some reason.. or ghost coming home to the smell of freshly baked pie (or something similarly wholesome) with blood still caked under his nails.... wrapping those large hands around my waist while i'm making the crust.. ughhh..sorry just- housewife reader who bakes treats and takes care of and dotes on a big military man and gets fucked senseless in return is so stuck in my head.

So I’m going to use this opportunity to speak gratuitously about Ghost’s relationship to food. Others have spoken of it at length before, but hopefully I will be able to add something new!

So we all know that Ghost did not have a happy childhood. He did not grow up in a secure home. He did not grow up with means. He was not nurtured, nor was he nourished. He enlisted at the first opportunity, and I think he nearly cried from being able to eat three, full meals a day that weren’t even that bad.

The next section of his life is a bit better in regards to eating, but not great. He knows where his next meal is coming from, and he doesn’t have to worry about there being enough to eat. He’s a grown man with a paycheck, he can buy food if he likes. But we all know the cafeteria food and MREs are demoralizing. They’re edible, but nothing more than that.

The first time he has leave, has to stare at the walls of his own empty studio and live for himself with the means to go grocery shopping as much as he likes— he’s at a total loss. No one ever taught him what he should be eating. No one ever showed him how to wash mushrooms. How to cut against the grain of a cut of beef. How to separate an egg yolk from the white. How to reduce a sauce. How to make sure scrambled eggs don’t overcook by taking the pan off of the heat.

So he starts very small. Eats like a college student. Lots of microwave shit. Works up to cooking himself some eggs. Almost moans at how good they are when it’s freshly cooked, on toast, and there’s no eggshell in it, and no one is yelling at him while he eats, he doesn’t have to hurry and get moving— it’s a really beautiful feeling he’s never gotten.

And maybe he had a neighbor at this time. Some older woman who noticed that the apartment that sat dormant most of the year had an occupant. One that still looked like a kid. Wore fatigues. Clearly didn’t have a family to go home to, if he was hanging around here on his shore time.

So she starts feeding him. Giving him a portion of what she makes for her own family. Casserole, cakes, stroganoff— anything. And Ghost will never forget that. The unparalleled joy of being given food from someone’s own home. Something they made. Something good. The food always tastes better when it isn’t mass produced. It always tastes better fresh. And it always tastes better when it was made by someone who cares.

The trajectory of his life and career don’t afford him much time. He spends most of his leave time cooking. Experimenting with recipes and learning. But that’s still such a small minority of his life.

When you, the fresh face in the 141 start bringing in food regularly, Gaz jokes that you’re buttering them up— trying to get in their good graces. You’re warned that Ghost is a hard won man. The truth is that no one has really tried home made lemon bars on him before. And they work like a charm.

Maybe a year or two later, you’ve gone on leave for maternity. You’re moved in together. It’s his first deployment without you working at his side. His first time coming home, and actually having someone to come home to.

And the house is alive. He can smell the currant and blueberry pie in the oven. You’re playing music in the kitchen. The house is so warm. There’s an unfolded blanket on the couch. The couch has a spaghetti stain on one of the arm rests.

And you. In loose pants and an even looser shirt with your bump visible. There’s blood under his nails. He smells like sweat and hot old dirt. But here you are, making the perfect nest for him. Not minding when he lays his head on your shoulder, embracing you from behind while you idly check the sauce simmering on the stove.

So are you getting fucked tonight? Baby, you’re getting fucked while that pie is on the cooling rack. You are getting railed after dinner and then you’re getting railed after dessert. And then you’re getting pounded in the shower and then he’s taking you in your fucking bed. And if you weren’t pregnant before, you definitely would be now.

[kissitbttr]

pregnancy was never easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and truly it was something that toji had learned throughout being married to you and seeing your belly swell with your baby girl. the constant mood swings, back pains, cravings and all. but toji is a wonderful husband. for that, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

anything you want, you get even if your midnight cravings hit. toji will still get up and get dressed before drive to the nearest store that has your favorite red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.

but being pregnant also means that toji has gotten far more protective than usual. more staying by your side, more checking up on you through his phone, more hiring security cameras and guards to keep you safe. despite your protests, he still thinks it’s necessary.

“sweethea—what the heck?” toji grumbles, eyes almost popping out of his sockets to see you’re not beside him. eyes glancing left and right and that’s where the panic begins to seep into him. “fuck” he scrambles out of the bed, seeing the clock hits at two am,

“no, no, no—“ he feels bead of sweats racing on his temples before slipping on his shoes and a shirt over his head. thinking that something might have happened to you.

god, i can’t go through this. not again. not you. please, please, not you.

toji may not have been the most religious man that has ever walked on earth. but he will beg on his knees and plead to the man up above to never take you away from him,

and just as he about to grab a gun off his safe, he hears the refrigerator door shut downstairs. the sounds making him halt as he quick to whip his head to the source of it.

his eyebrows then furrowed, putting the weapon down carefully before stepping out of your shared room. sometimes he curses himself for buying a home far too big because now he feels like it’s an eternity coming down the stairs. but again, he bought it for you.

the living room lights are already turned off, the only dimmed light he could see is from the kitchen. not only that, but he could hear the metals clinking. so slowly, with ever so confusion written across his face, toji approaches slowly

and there you are ever in your glory, body draped in your favorite pink silky robe sitting on the floor with your back against the fridge. a plate of not one but two red velvet cake slice in your hand as the other forks your way through the delicious treat.

toji heaves out a breathe of relief, knowing that nothing had happened to you. and the noise is loud enough for you to stop chewing and look up. eyes widen at your husband’s figure standing only a few feet away,

“hi” your voice sounds small. almost like embarrassed because you feel like a kid who got caught stealing a cookie off the jar,

“sweetheart” the nickname falls from his mouth like he’s happy to see you after being a part for so long. “what are you doing?”

your mouth slowly begin to chew, a cute smile making its way as your eyes glinting with innocence that toji can’t deny but feel like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

“the baby is hungry” is the only thing you can muster to a response, like it’s an obvious thing. “she wants cake” you giggle quietly,

oh yes, he is definitely falling harder for you again

“the baby is—“ he sighs, hands coming up to rub his face up and down. not because he’s upset but rather amused. “she wanted red velvet cake?”

“mhmm!” you nod vigorously, taking another big bite of the dessert. “and cream cheese frosting!”

and for the first time in a while, toji laughs with his head shaking at the sight of his beautiful wife eating cake at two am. “she told you that?”

“yes! i heard her whisper to me before i go to bed ‘mama.. can we eat the cake? but wait until dada goes to sleep’ because she knows how dada doesn’t allow mama to eat cakes” you smile at him, doing your best of baby voice. licking the cream off the utensil,

toji is grinning so hard he feels like his cheeks are hurting, his eyes are full of love when he looks at you and the little girl you’re growing in there,

“well dada is just taking care of mama so she will be healthy. she needs veggies and whole foods” he takes another step closer, sliding next to you. his eyes never leaving yours, looking at you so lovingly by the way you eat. “i thought something happened to you.. i was panicking”

you pout, not wanting to cause anymore distress on him. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have done that. but i couldn’t wake you up, you looked exhausted”

he frowns, bending his knees close to his chest. “you should’ve. i would gladly grab the cake for you hence you asked, baby” he leans forward and kiss your temple,

a grateful smile places on your lips, humming in a contentment at the feeling of his soft mouth on your skin. “hmm, i know—“ you cradle his cheek with your free palm, thumbing against his cheekbone and down to his scar.

he used to be so insecure about it until you made him not to be. giving so much praises and kisses about the scar that you think look so hot on him.

“want some?” you extend a spoonful of the cake towards his mouth, in which he opens almost immediately, biting onto the sweet goodness. “how lucky i am to have you, mr. y/l/n”

he laughs, wiping the walnut crumbs off the corner of his lips. “i should be the one saying that to you, doll”

maybe second chances do exist. and it’s a privilege for a person to earn one. toji may had done very questionable things in the past that would make a person think twice in befriending him, let alone married to him but change is real.

and the flaws are what makes it him. it’s one of the reason you are drawn to this beautiful man. because despite every negative seed he may have in him, he still tries. trying and trying to be the person you deserve and the father that your baby girl deserve.

it upsets you to no end knowing that everyone can’t see that. they just see him as a cold, reserved, selfish man who keeps himself closed from the world to see. they don’t see the tears he had shed almost every night for failing to be perfect, they don’t see him having a small banter with you because he wanted to take your last name, they don’t see the amount of times he locked himself in his room because of people talkinh, they don’t see him always rushing out of his office on fridays because he wants to get home before you do just so he can cook your favorite dish,

they don’t see all of that but toji doesn’t care. he doesn’t need their validation nor approval. he just needs yours.

because it’s you he always comes home to. you are his salvation. you are his peace. you are his dream came true.

you, you, you, you.

before you could protest, he presses his lips against yours and move his hand down to your bump,

“happy doesn’t even begin to describe how grateful i am to be your husband”

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒚𝒂

• 𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

[ theme: friends to lovers | +18 minors do not interact. ]

divider by @anitalenia 🎀

• Oldman Logan who seemingly and most likely melts whenever you smile at him. You’re so young and fresh like a ray of warm sunshine in his life.

• Oldman Logan who loves reading whatever you write for him, he sits in his limo taking a break, drinking some whiskey with his pair of specs reading your messages but he never really replies to you. You already know that he is busy so you don’t mind at least he reads them.

• Oldman Logan who knows your age gap is insane and he thinks he’s sick deep down to even spend time with you, but you like sitting next to him and draw tiny pictures in his notepad. You sitting crossed leg on his passenger seat, doodling and colouring to unwind after long days at work. You force him to drive you the nearest fast food place and you storm out his limo to go and buy food and he chuckles watching you. He leans against the hood of his limo lighting a cigar. Do you force him eating ice cream fudge cake? Yes. And it’s all over his beard as you feed him and you giggle like a little girl. He grunts and that grumpy face of his makes you laugh- he’s melting deep within.

• Oldman Logan who buys you new pencils and notepads and keeps them in his car, even though you speak way too much and you’re a very happy person he could listen to you all day. Just the little ups and downs at your work, he sits there driving and you just keep talking soothing his very soul.

• Oldman Logan who allows himself a little break and drive you home from work almost everyday. You never leave without saying a goodbye kissing his cheek and drawing hearts on his fogged windows. It’s so adorable that he almost never wipes them away until rain does.

• Oldman Logan who suddenly doesn’t show up for few days and you are heartbroken over it. Your phone never buzzes with his simple ‘hi’ ‘yes I’m on my way’ you are concerned, but god you miss him so much that you have tremors of pain in your chest and you cry.

• Oldman Logan who wakes in the middle of the night with horrible nightmares but when he thinks of you and your beautiful smile his heartbeat soothes and he’s lying there awake thinking of you.

• Oldman Logan who has to go to Charles and take care of him for a little bit but misses you every moment. He gives him a full month of meds supply, sleeps through one night and drives back to the city where he works.

• Oldman Logan who parks his limo nearby your house, watches you get in your home. And he just looks out for you, slowly drinking away his feelings for you because he shouldn’t even have any he is a grumpy old man. You would never settle for someone like him at all and he is not allowed to care about you so much you would only get hurt.

• Oldman Logan who smokes his cigar, and pretends like he doesn’t stay in his limo all night long just looking at your house. You approach the window and see him there, your heart shakes in happiness and you start crying putting on your slippers and run over to him. He steps out and you’re jumping in his arms nearly sending him on the gravel pavement and he hugs you tightly.

• Oldman Logan who allows him to melt into the tight hug and he holds you and you’re like a spider monkey clinging to the man who can visibly be your grandfather but you don’t care you love him so much it hurts. Soon you’re expressing your happiness and gratitude by kissing him all over his scarred face and he closed his eyes loving every moment of it. And your mouths brush against each other and you moan kissing him. Logan responds kissing you feverishly taking your breath away.

• Oldman Logan who lets you straddle his lap on the backseats of his limo, you whisper how much you miss him and that you want to be the closest to him. He tells you that he’s an Oldman and that he’s nothing good for you but you refuse his words telling him you love every part of him and that he’s just the right one for you. He’s hesitant letting you in but god— you melt all over insecurities away. Trembling hands skim all over your front touching your breasts, the swell of them. His eyes are soft and pleading and needing all of you.

• Oldman Logan who gasps softly when he sees your core engulfing his length all the way, your whimpers and moans ring in his ears. His big hands guide you back and forth on it and you mewl as you find yourself cumming moments later. The size of him just makes you cum so hard because it touched and nestles against your sweet spots and you’re a whiny mess. He’s not even done with you, his praises and soft groans egg you on to ride him and the quicker you both do so the better it feels and the euphoria is touching your soul.

• Oldman Logan who calls you his princess, his little girl when he lets you cuddle up to him while he smokes his cigars. His hands soothe your back holding you close.

• Oldman Logan who makes you feel you’re the only one in the world, who protects you and makes you feel so safe you reach heaven.

• Oldman Logan who is ♾️/ 10 a boyfriend, daddy material. ;))

[lemon-berri]

Imagine Gojo Satoru with a partner who loves to bake...

Everyone knows this man has an abominable sweet tooth. He quite literally doesn't stop, sometimes you swear he has a bottomless pit where his stomach should be. How does he eat that much sugar and still look that good anyway?

But he's also a busy man. Oftentimes he works into the early hours of the morning, he doesn't sleep much, and what little free time he has he prefers to spend with you.

Satoru thinks he's the luckiest man alive. Not only is his sweet partner the most gorgeous person he's ever witnessed, not only do you take amazing care of him, but you also bake.

It's a common occurrence for him to wake up on the mornings to the smell of something sweet enticing him towards the kitchen. He finds you there. Usually you wake up bright and early so by the time he saunters out of bed you're already washing up. He always stops you. After all, you've been up putting your efforts into baking - it's only fair that he does the washing.

He loves to try the new recipes you attempt. Macaroons? He's inhaling those. Strawberry pie? Gone in one sitting. Once you made a Bruce cake, Satoru still swears that was the best day of his life.

He's definitely the type of partner who'd take interest in your hobbies. Seeing you happy makes him happy- why wouldn't he want to be a part of your joy? So sometimes you bake together. Albeit, to varying degrees of success.

Satoru tries his best, he really does. But he can't help the fact he's quite messy in the kitchen. Folding batter turns into a splashing mess of ingredients around the kitchen. His face is white with flour. How did he get icing on the ceiling?

But there are also the times it goes well. When he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and watches with interest how you decorate cupcakes with floral frosting. Or when you stir things together, your slow and steady pace mixed with his strength.

You kiss batter off his fingers to taste test your creations. While he leaves sweet kisses on your cheek where flour has somehow stained your beautiful skin. You both choose your favourite flavours and toppings together, and come up with all sorts of ideas on what to make. Whether chaotic or sweet, baking together is always more fun.

His heart melts when he finds the little treats you like to pack him with his lunch. A triple chocolate muffin, perhaps some cookies. Sometimes he finds cake pops decorated like various characters in there. And you leave him sweet notes to go along with it, ones that get him through any hard day.

The house always smells like sugar and the sweetest of fruits, the fridge is full to the brim with treats, and that sweet smile of yours is enough to give anyone a sugar rush. Ever since you came into his life, everything's been sweeter. And he wouldn't trade your dynamic for the world.

Dropping this and running away.

Once again this isn't proof read if you find any spelling errors please do hesitate to tell me.

Thank you for reading 🩵 ily all

[bwabys-scenarios]

HEAR ME OUT, TOJI AND NANAMI BEING INTO CHUBBY WOMEN??? (from jjk ofc-) what’s ur take on which characters from jjk would be into chubby girls? 😋

JJK men that prefer a chubby wife

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: breeding, pussy eating, sex, cockwarming, fem reader

NSFW JJK taglist: @iluvies @zeniiis @highbats69

If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned !

Gojo

-not only does he have a preference for plump women, he’s not afraid to make it known. Sure he’s dated mostly thin women through high school and college, but that was before he knew the pleasure of holding onto a pair of fat thighs as he fucked into chubby pussy…

-you’re his EVERYTHING he’s completely in love and shows you off as often as he can. there’s no room to be self conscious or doubt your beauty, because he’s absolutely head over heels and will show you in and out of the bedroom.

-he’s got to have you on his lap any time you’re around, including if you come to bring him lunch when he’s teaching class. it’s a little embarrassing, but it’s how he shows his love!

-there’s nothing that can tear him away from your chubby pussy once he’s got his tongue in you I fear… honestly he’s fallen asleep between your legs more than once…

Nanami

-he enjoys soft and comfortable things, and you’re one of them. he finds himself resting his head on your breasts or belly when he’s stressed!

-Nanami is a pretty big, muscular man, so the extra cushion on your body lets him let loose a little more than he would be able to with a thin woman

-this man would do absolutely anything for you. he just adores pampering you with sweets and new clothes. when he has you to come home to, he can do pretty much anything.

-he just loves having your fat, plump ass resting on his lap as you keep his cock nice and warm. he’ll rub a hand over your chubby tummy, whispering about how soon, your belly will swell with his child, and how good of a mommy you will be!

Choso

-Choso had no preferences before he met you, and after he did see your plump figure approach Itadori with a big smile on your face, his life was changed forever. It didn’t help that you were a kind college student that was taking care of his baby brother, you were PERFECT!

-he doesn’t understand human beauty standards, so he was genuinely shocked when Itadori informed him you had never been with a man before. you are literal perfection?? oh hell no he’s gotta wife you up with HASTE

-he follows you around like a lovesick puppy, sometimes growling at anyone that gets too close. he can’t keep his eyes off your fat, swaying hips or your cute chubby cheeks that look pink each time you catch his staring

-it wasn’t long before he couldn’t help it and had you sprawled out on the bed, his face buried in your pussy as he confessed and apologized all at the same time

Toji

-sir is absolutely smitten with you. Your cute chubby cheeks that turn pink when he gives you attention, the soft sway of your plump hips when you walk away, and most importantly that tummy that he’d love to squeeze while he bounces you on his cock… dreamy sigh…

-you’re his sweet little princess, and he just loves to get you all riled up. the way you puff out your cheeks and pout at him after he just fucked you on his fingers just to pull away right before you could orgasm gets him hard

-he loves to fuck your thighs and get them all messy with his cum <3 don’t worry, he’ll always clean up his mess and give you a few orgasms as an apology, but he just loves the feeling of your soft, plush thighs surrounding his dick

-he’s a big fan of groping and grabbing at your ass when you walk by, and yes this extends to public settings. it’s a bit embarrassing, but he’ll buy you a piece of strawberry cake later to make it up for you

[lady-ashfade]

Hi I would like a slice of blueberry pie with Alicent Hightower please? ✨

Sworn To Me

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Yandere!Alicent HighTower x Fem!Reader

Bakery Event is closed

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summary: the queen is caught between the whispers of her favorite lady in waiting.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 969

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: Yandere behaviors, Possessive, Crispy cole is not with her, This set before Viserys dies, I struggled with this one, manipulation, me loving women. 

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🥧 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

“Excuse me,” you mumbled and moved around the crowded hall, a pair of chatting ladies blocking your path. They sent you a strange look but moved non the less, so you continued with your way.

Life at the keep has been wonderful and very welcoming. The opportunity became clear when your father moved to kingsland at the request of the hand, you followed him in hopes of a better future. Maybe a handsome suitor will fall at your feet for your hand in marriage, yet you were offered something else in the mean time. A chance to be a Lady-In-Waiting for The Queen herself.

Alicent couldn’t keep her eyes off of you since she first laid eyes upon you at the way you carried yourself like sunshine. How beautiful your hair curled, how intoxicating the smile on your lips made her feel. The world seemed to not have touched you yet as you still sang of happiness and innocents. Something the gods must have wished for her — to keep you safe from harm and the cruelties that plague the realm.

As you made your way down the halls you made yourself walk a little faster, trying not to trip down the stairs with your skirts lifted in your hands. You nodded to every lord you passed by, never noticing the lingering eyes flicker down your frame. Once down with the steps you make your way to the old chambers were Your Queen resides. You smile at the guard beside the door. He stepped aside and opened the chamber door with you close behind him.

“My Queen,” you bond your knees and nod your head towards her. She turns from her gaze from out the window to you, your dress matching the same shade of hers.

The knight walks out and shuts the door behind him. Placing your hands together you walk closer and a bright smile forms. Around the queen sat a large selection of sweets that aways called your name and delicious wine made from peach’s, always making you feel good.

Alicent looked between the pastries you laid eyes upon and then back at you, and courageous smile appearing on her face before grabbing a plate herself. “Good morrow, Lady Y/n.” she twisted her tongue while trailing herself closer to the silver trays.

“Good Morrow, Your Grace. I hope the night was kind to you,” you asked sweetly.

Once she gathered a few small cakes she took a seat on the cushions and watched you while you did the same. How comfortable you seemed to always be in her presences. Or the bounce in your steps when you saw sweets, no matter the occasion.

“Fair enough I suppose, as it can be as of late,” she sighed and swirled the cup of wine to her lips. Taking a set across from her you begin to devour the sweets on the plate, your eyes brightening with eat taste.

Alicent kept her eyes on you and continued to watch you eat while something rooted inside her chest and made it sting. Rumors. Horrible whispers have spread to her ears about you — About a betrothal — something she couldn’t let happen. Having you married to someone else, it simply wouldn’t do. A man would crush your spirits, never show you the love you deserved nor treat you like she did.

“Tell me, have you anything important as of late to share?” Alicent questioned while the light made shades on her face and her eyes piercing into you.

Nothing of importance come to mind as you spent most of your time at her side, so not much has happened since the hours of leaving her to rest. “Nothing of note, Your Grace.” she only hummed in reply to think of something you could know.

“You’d never leave my side, would you?” Alicents voice stayed calm and honeyed with her words, and eyes curious above the cup now leaning into her lips.

You rushed to shake your head to deny, jumping almost at the edge of your seat to convince her otherwise.

“No Your Grace. I would never dream of leaving your side as long as you wish as such.”

“Then there has been no indication of a lord asking for your hand?” Alicent questioned you. Nothing to her words spoke to you, nor held any truth to them.

“There has been no word of any engagement of mine, My Queen I assure you. Whoever told you these lies simply must have misheard or played the feddle of lies.” You asserted. The next second you watch her rise to her feet, her dress falling off her lap and a beautiful shade of green you always recognize with comfort and warmth. Alicent stood just before you, and right above you and her difference in height now forced you to look up at her.

Alicent took her fingers and grabbed ahold of your chin. The mood shifted in the air as her presences changed to a unrecognized one, and slight fear dwelled within you. “I couldn’t have someone steal you away, your sworn to be by my side. No man can have you,” she harshly tightened her fingers. A darkness filled her eyes as she stared down at you, and the pain of her hold made you flinch — you had no choice but to obey.

“Yes, My Queen.” You quiver.

She let go and made a cooing sound and dropped a few inches downwards to take you into her arms in acts to comfort you. She rubbed your back with her warm hands and tried to soothe your state.

“My sweet girl, I appreciate your loyalty. I only want what’s best for you. As I am the only one who understands what you need.” She whispers before placing a kiss onto your temple.

[rubywithecat]

JjK men when you are too innocent for them(fem. reader)

—

Here’s little update! Sorry for taking long to upload this, I have a lot of drafts but haven’t made them into posting cuz I’m again busy for school application and preparing for my April intake at language school in Osaka. Hope you enjoy this, luvs!

—

Satoru Gojo

-He likes the way you look at him with inspiring wide eyes when he told you smth you don’t know. It’s his weakness and he thinks it’s so cute and u can make him die for u with that look. But not when you told him a guy told you that he want to do doggy with u that u didn’t know what that mean so u asked if he knows. He suddenly silent and then, “Who is that guy?” He asked with a frown. “Why? Is that a bad joke or smth?” U asked him, worried. He looked down at you, starring at your innocent eyes and oh fckkk his thoughts filled with lust over your innocence, he grinned “Do u want me to show you?” then pushed you to lie down on couch and licked his lips. “I will fcking murder that pervert later but for now, let me take care of you first” said he.

Toji Fushiguro

-You just started working at a bar and Toji and his friends are regulars there. “Hey new girl, don’t you know how to serve us, pretty?” A man from their group yelled, looking at you like a dish. U didn’t like that but you don’t know what he mean either. “Umm… do u want me to take another order, sir…?” U asked, nervously. The men laughed but stopped by Toji. “Dudes, don’t scare out of this innocent kid” he looked you up and down. U were scared and stepped back a little. He chuckled then, stood up and stepped closer and closer to you. He touched your face and lifted it to look at him. How cute ur resisting his strength he thought. “U don’t need to serve those bastards. U only have to serve me” he grabbed your waist. “Give me your number” he whispered. “I’m not interested in you” you pushed him but it didn’t work. He smiled. “Don’t worry, I will find it out later”

Kento Nanami

-You’re an intern and being hit on by a lot of guys at workplace cuz of your beauty. They took advantage of your friendliness and innocence that see good in everyone. One day, you were printing something and suddenly, your colleague shamelessly flirt with you which makes you so uncomfortable. “Do you wanna come drink with me tonight? We can go love place later” he asked. “What is the love place?” you asked. “Oh well, it just a place where you can watch movie and chill” he lied. “So r u up to it?” he asked but interrupted by Nanami. “I thought flirting at workplace is forbidden” he reminded the guy. “If u don’t wanna lose your job, step out”. The guy looked scared, “Yes, sir…I’m so sorry” he said and left. Nanami turned back to you which you were just starring. “How on earth you don’t know what is love place is?” He sighed. “You look like you are easy to deceive” he said. “I’m sorry… thanks a lot anyway” u said before you left and he was surprised it made his heart beat so fast.

Megumi Fushiguro

-He was busy but when you phoned him, he pick up. “Megumi!” U said. “Yeah what’s up again” he said. “A guy in my class dm me like how about we sexting… like what does that mean? Did he spelled that wrong or smth?” You asked. Megumi was stunned. “How do you not know about it” he sighed. “Just block the guy”. “I can’t! He’s our project leader” you said. “Give me his number I will ask him what does that mean for you, ok?” He asked, so you did. Later that day, when that guy see you at school, he looked so frightened and randomly apologizing to you and begging for forgiveness, which made u so confused.

Suguru Geto

-You started dating him a few months ago and he’s comfortable enough to ask you this. “So, what’s your body count?” He asked as he watched at you eating a cake. “Huh?” You asked, confused. “Body count?”. He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? It’s ok if you’re uncomfortable talking about it” he said. “No like I don’t know what you mean… is it like in a game?” You asked which made him laughed so hard. “Guess it’s zero then” he smirked. “Seriously what’s that?” U asked again. “Never mind you will see what it mean later” he said as he wiped the cream on your lips with tissue.

—

-I hope u guys love this! Like and share would be so much appreciated! Thanks<33

—

[thehauntedetheral]

Omg i love your yandere baker so much, he's so cute 😭🫶. We need more of him pls? 😔🙏. How about when y/n start gaining on weight cause y/n keep eating his cake and then she stop going to his bakery for a while and also avoid him a lot cause meeting him means stuffing your face with his cake (dude def love seeing y/n eating his food) and that led to him going crazy 💀

Part 1 : https://www.tumblr.com/thehauntedetheral/757598004742176768/can-we-get-a-yandere-baker-x-reader-pls-thank?source=share

Omg i love your yandere baker so much, he's so cute 😭🫶. We need more of him pls? 😔🙏. How about when y/n start gaining on weight cause y/n keep eating his cake and then she stop going to his bakery for a while and also avoid him a lot cause meeting him means stuffing your face with his cake (dude def love seeing y/n eating his food) and that led to him going crazy 💀

Yandere Baker Pt. 2

Requests are open !

• "Nooooo!!!!" This was your first reaction when you measured your current weight on the machine.

• You have gained quite a lot weight you thought looking at the number on the machine.

• Today at office a coworker said to you that you were looking quite chubby this days and that led you to this checking out your weight.

• You looked at the mirror and thought to yourself that now you have to go on diet as you cheeks looked a bit chubby and your weight increased.

• You didn't want to go on a diet because that would mean not going to your favourite bakery, seeing the cute baker and eating his delicious treats.

• The mouthwatering pastries and cakes are now replaced by veggies, fruits and nutritional food.

• It has been a huge record that you have not gone to the bakery since 5 days.

• Your absence made yan worried about you and sad.

• "Are my baking skills not good now?" He thought while waiting for you but you didn't came.

• He would look at you through bakery glass wall jogging in morning. He would come out and call out for you "Y/n I just baked your favourite pastry, come inside and let's have a taste." While holding the tray with mouthwatering pastries at you.

The aroma, the beautiful texture tempted you but you would just start running away yelling "Next time yan right now busy exercising".

• This made him incredible sad thinking "what will I do now if my y/n isn't eating my pastries and cakes?"

• Will definitely cry for hours in his bakery sitting alone in a corner.

• Going crazy thinking "are my baking skills not enough now? Does she not like me anymore now? I baked her favourite and yet she refused, this is not my y/n."

• Enough is enough he goes to your home one day ringing the bell like a maniac with a box filled with your favourites. Wanting to know why his favourite customer isn't coming anymore????!!!!!

•You opened the door and invited him inside explaining the whole weight gain thing.

• He is just shocked looking at you with unbelievable expression. You and getting fat? IMPOSSIBLE.

• According to him you are absolutely perfect and not at all chubby, fat, skinny or anything.

• Thinks of beating that co worker who made you think you are gaining weight. Even though he is not a violence person.

• According to him you are not gaining weight you are just becoming more healthy with his love which he is pouring on you through his baked goods.

• He tries to convince you that you are not gaining weight and you need to come to bakery as usual.

• But when you don't agree he comes with a plan.

• This man starts a new section in his bakery with title "SUGAR FREE BAKED GOODS" which has no sugar and is made from only healthy stuffs only. Like sugar free bananas muffins, oatmeal cookies which health influencer shows on their channel even though it is totally against his baking ethics. But this man would do anything for you. For you to eat his food. After all this man's love language is feeding you his handmade food.

• His bakery now has oatmeal cookies, apple donuts which is nothing but fruits cutted and some healthy toppings on it. Making all this in his bakery even though he hates it as he loves making stuff filled with cream, toppings, chocolate etc.

• But he will do anything to have you back at bakery and eat.

• His sale increased as he was selling both cream fillied delicious pastries and healthy sugar free things made from apples and berries and oatmeal etc.

• His bakery was all over the internet viral through health influencer videos you followed which made you go to the bakery too.

• You ate the healthy stuff and even complimented him on this new business ideas of his (only if you knew that he started all this for you)

• He was happy that you would come sometimes at bakery for the healthy stuff now.

• But he was not elated as you were not coming everyday and eating those baked stuff which made you happy.

• He would come with you on morning joggings to be near you.

• After a month with your exercise and dieting you loss a good amount of weight. Which made you happy.

• Upon your success in weight lossing he gave you a small cupcake of your favourite icing.

"Come on y/n I made it for your celebration on losing weight. I wanted to make a cake but I know you won't eat it so I made a little cupcake. And come on all the health influencers says you should reward yourself with a little treat after work. And a little cupcake won't hurt." He said manipulating you with his puppy eyes and pretty words.

And the cupcake he made for you looks so tempting that you ate it thinking a little cupcake won't hurt. You ate it and felt like you were in heaven again eating it after a month. You missed all this so bad!!!

• Well you have fallen again now in his sweet baked trap coming everyday eating crossiant, pastry, cake while yan tells you " a little won't hurt y/n you have already loss weight and you also eat the nutritious food I made it's all balance" he says while feeding you his delicious treats being happy that you are back to eating his baked goods.

• Seems like you are never gonna be able to escape his pastries and the good looking baker who makes it.

For more yandere reading :

[yandere-sins]

shyly requesting a Yandere Jiyan x reader where both are in a arranged marriage and reader thinking that Jiyan does not want to be in this arrangement much like her tries her darn hardest to break off the engagement. from showing that she is very feisty and high maintenance to pointing out that they would not match personality wise. Even hinting that no offspring would ever be had since he always seems to be on the field working.

Thank you for requesting a very good boi ♥♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

♡ The first time you mention how awful and loveless this marriage will be, something inside him dies. Jiyan feels you slipping, distancing yourself, and although he knows you two are not in an ideal position where you'd marry him out of love and affection, his beliefs are shattered. You don't know how hard he worked on arranging this marriage or how much he paid to keep the reasons and unsettling doings hidden from you. Of course, you'd need time to warm up to the idea. But saying it is him who doesn't want it is completely tearing him and his efforts apart.

♡ Panic rises as you threaten to slip from his grasp, your refusal so harsh and to the point that it's like daggers into his heart. Nevertheless, he puts on a brave face just for you. A kind smile to cover the pain, and Jiyan gulps down the hurt. He can't close his eyes from reality—not when the reality is so beautiful since it's you, standing before him. He assures you that he'll do his utmost best to be the husband you deserve, even if the circumstances are... "unfortunate". Jiyan doesn't miss the way you flinch when he agrees with you, realizing too late that this only fuels your fire. You are not exactly begging, but pointing out the incompatible things about you two doesn't really help straying him from this path. In fact, he finds your feistiness and eagerness to be quite endearing, even though the topic is very serious.

♡ No matter what, you are already his. The marriage contract is signed, and in one more ceremony, you'll have no more excuses to make. For a while, Jiyan simply dissociates as you provide him with good and bad reasoning as to why you two would never work. It's unlike him to space out, but he can't help himself. His goals are finally in reach, and despite your doubts, he isn't concerned at all about having an arranged marriage with you. Instead, he thinks of your wedding gown, eating cake, and thanking all the guests attending the wedding. You, smiling and tearing up at the altar. Him, swaying you over the dancefloor. The honeymoon. The wedding night.

♡ "There won't be any intimacy." That does tear him out of his thoughts. He questions out loud why you'd think that, making you flustered with how straightforward he is about this intimate topic. You lower your voice as you explain that his work is important and exhausting, and with the marriage completely loveless, you are not going to wait up for him every night. Jiyan grows silent as you explain, not even having considered needing to be away from you for a prolonged time. It was true that he had to attend a lot of missions and important work obligations lately, which also prolonged your engagement. But with this point, you were actually right.

♡ "No can do," he concedes, nodding. "I'll have to step back from work a little."

♡ "Why would you do that?!" you question him, exasperated about how he didn't seem to share your concerns. This isn't the man you know who works harder than anyone else, and it's crazy how he could simply state he'd just drop some of his workload for you. Even like this, pouting and stressed, Jiyan has to hold back from not kissing you right then and there. You are adorable, no matter your emotional state, and he can't wait to see all the faces you make over the day. Faces only he gets to see, as your husband.

♡ "I can't allow my wife to be lonely," is his simple answer, knowingly lying through his teeth. Of course, it's not as easy as that. As much as he wishes to spend all his time with you, Jiyan feels dutybound, and there is no throwing away all his hard work if he wants to give you the life you deserve by his side. However, everything comes at a cost, and you are his well-deserved prize after all these years of looking out for other people. And if some words will finally make you his, he's not above lying to you, even if it hurts him. Even if it hurts you once you find out, he lied to you all along. But by then, it will already be too late. By then, you'll belong wholly and entirely to Jiyan and he doesn't plan to give you a way out even then.

[dipperscavern]

yes dippy we should talk about bi cregan with bi reader!!

imagine them recruiting northern hotties for threesomes 🤭

mmf: cregan with another man (preferably jace) giving her that double worship. cregan always has the upper hand ofc even when it's not a twink but another big broody northern they're sharing their bed with. and when cregan gets to top him while he eats her out and she holds eye contact with cregan as he's fucking that guy.

ffm: it's either the same way that she is the center of attention OR cregan and her tagteam that other woman and fuck her stupid. cregan with his big fat uncut cock and her with her tongue and fingers while cregan fucks the other woman.

- respectful anon

pairing: cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon x reader

authors note: oh respectful anon… i read (preferably jace) and absolutely shuddered. oh my god . i’m sorry the other ideas in here are wonderful too i just have to get this out before i go off my rocker

jacaerys arriving in the north, bearing the colors of queen rhaenyra, and being greeted by cregan stark — and his comely wife.

he can feel his breath hitch as soon as he slides off vermax and spots you, arm wrapped around cregans bicep. even though the snow crunches under his boots and the early winter winds seep beneath his clothing, jace feels his skin run hot. and this time, he cannot blame it on the blood of the dragon.

once you approach, jace gives you both a respectful nod of his head, before cregan greets jacaerys with a firm handshake. jace takes your hand, kissing your knuckles, and says the tales do not do your beauty (they don’t). you only smile, dipping into a small curtsy and playfully telling him not to make you blush.

he spares a glance at cregan, a small worry of overstepping dancing in his gaze, but cregan only nods — a smirk adorning the lord of winterfells lips.

the very lips that have grown accustomed to the feel of yours.

the thought is shooed away as quickly as it arises. you’re married, and jace feels a pang of disappointment at the places his mind has a tendency to wander to. you’re extending your hospitality to him, he won’t disrespect you with such concepts (won’t he?).

once having vermax sorted, you & cregan then escort him to winterfell. cregan speaks of the north and its history, and jace replies when necessary, but he finds his gaze drifting from the lord of winterfell, and landing on the lady attracted to his side instead. jace, no matter how much internal scolding, finds himself ceaselessly returning to quietly study (admire) your features.

as you enter the castle, jace notices your cheeks are flushed from the cold. cregan, mid sentence, silently ushers you towards the nearest hall fire with the unforeseen hand on the small of your back. something unfamiliar stirs in him at the sight (want).

they swore vows to each other in sight of the northern gods, chides jaces inner voice.

but, no matter how much restraint he expresses, as his stay continues, he finds himself enamored.

enamored with the playful glimmer in your eyes, the way your hips sway as you walk, how your dress hugs your curves, your light teasing, your love for lemon cakes, how you always catch jacaerys’ eye even from across the room. he’s utterly, hopelessly enthralled.

and even worse, he’s given himself away

you, jace, and cregan have been proper. careful not to overstep, but aware enough to silently acknowledge the underlying tension that sits between you. jacaerys would’ve been content with this dynamic for the entirety of his visit, it would’ve been a good exercise of self control — if the day in the kitchens didn’t change everything.

the skies weep, the raindrops making a soft pattering noise on the windows all around the castle. it's a brief change in atmosphere, and gives him time to get used to the more intimate aspects of winterfell.

rain trapping you inside, you and cregan had offered to give jacaerys a proper tour of winterfell, to rectify the short one he had been given upon his arrival.

this particular instance, that made him run as hot as his temper, takes place as the tour winded to an end, and you all ended up in the kitchens. the same kitchens that jace, when supping with you both from then on out, can't stop thinking about.

you had pulled them in, relishing in the idea of swiping a few small pastries to hold your sweet tooth over until dinner - assuring him that the cooks were quite used to you and cregans troublemaking, & were sworn to secrecy with a toothy grin (his heart skipped a beat at the sight).

you had been successful in your "stealing", but the problem arose when cregan had been conversing with one of the cooks, as you and jace stood over the counter, bringing the two small lemon cakes to your mouth.

you were conversing about something — what that was, jacaerys couldn’t remember if his life depended on it. once finished with your pastries, you had some leftover cream on the corner of your mouth. of course, since you're the worst minx to ever bewitch him, you raise a thumb to the corner of your mouth, swiping it off. then (of course), you bring it to your lips, maintaining eye contact with jace, and (of course) suck it off.

whatever he was saying had instantly died on his tongue.

his response was his parted lips trying to bring in air to send to his lungs so he could breathe, but, of course, you seem to have taken his breath too. suddenly the kitchen feels hot, ovens contributing to a warm atmosphere that had quickly turned blazingly overwhelming.

his gaze stayed trapped on where your thumb met your (soft looking) lips, as every part of the white cream had been sucked off.

you were most surprised & pleased by his reaction, indeed. you had an inkling the prince might be taken with you, but you wouldn’t act without certainty. and here you had it, certainty of the utmost stature had fallen right into your hands — watching his gaze flicker from your eyes, to your lips, your cleavage... and back to your lips again.

cregans voice snaps jacaerys out of the trance he had found himself in, and he’s ashamed to say he had to ask cregan to repeat himself. if he wasn’t devoting all of his energy into acting normal, he would see the way cregan glanced at you with raised brows seeing the smile on your face.

regardless of how it came to be, you’ve caught on. and jacaerys is seriously considering how dearly he’d be missed if the ground were to open up & swallow him whole.

your actions now have a certain weight behind them, confidence guiding your every step. hands “accidentally” brushing each other, glances from across the room, subconsciously leaning into each others warmth, flirtatious “jests” that grow bolder by the day, always teetering on the line of jesting and meaning it (you always mean it). you fix his crooked tunic for him, shifting it the right way. jacaerys pretends the warmth emanating from your hands doesn’t make him dizzy.

still, even so, jace had been showing remarkable restraint — not allowing his princely regime to falter (much), and keeping in his remarks. until you both spoke about vermax.

you stood atop one of winterfells walls, watching vermax fly, dipping in & out of the clouds. he was beautiful, and jacaerys would never abandon the opportunity of a conversation with you (or about vermax, of course).

jace told you of how vermax hatched in his crib as a babe, and you wistfully remark on your childhood dreams of dragonriding. he tells you you'd make a fearsome dragonrider. you say you'd made a good dragon rider indeed, but, instead of looking at vermax, jace finds your gaze fixed on him.

you poorly conceal the hidden tone of voice indicating you don't mean the green-scaled dragon in the sky above you, but the chocolate-curled dragon next to you. you don't do a good job of hiding the grin that threatens to erupt on your face, either.

jace feels a furious blush adorn his face, and the corners of his mouth tug up in a repressed smirk. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, his smile turning upside down as his gaze shifts back to vermax's soaring form.

"You speak truly. Any man would envy the dragon."

he pretends not to see the smile spreading across your face from his peripheral. you lean in closer to him, wrapping a hand around his bicep to punctuate your words.

"Men already envy you, My Prince."

he keeps his resolve as you walk away, but as soon as you're out of sight, he sighs — leaning his weight against the edge of the top of the wall, a shuddering exhale leaving his lips. gods have mercy on jacaerys velaryon.

after you sup for dinner, you and cregan escort him to his chambers, and jace feels taking on the entire green army by itself would be easier than this. trying to conceal his eyes being trapped on you, furious desire mounting in his stomach as guilt claws it’s way up his throat. it’s only by stroke of luck that you all walk in silence — he could not entertain a proper conversation if he tried.

does cregan know of your conversation? what would he say? what would he do? the very last thing he needs to be doing is disrespecting the warden of the north that he’s trying to ally.

these thoughts echo in his mind as you approach the door leading to his chambers. you three stop, jaces back to the heavy oak door as you and cregan stand in front of him.

“We shall see you in the morn, then.” says cregan.

jace nods, but his next words die on his tongue as you move from cregans side. his heart hammers in his chest as you saunter to him, standing on your tiptoes as your hand moves to cup his cheek. he subconsciously leans down for you, and you press a kiss onto the corner of his mouth, a breath to the right away from his lips.

seven save him.

his lips part with bated breath, eyes locked onto you as you pull away. his hands twitch with the need to pull you to him, and then he remembers your husband that’s standing right in front of you both.

jaces eyes widen, looking to cregan, but cregan only tilts his head.

his lips… is he smiling? as they hold eye contact, he spots amusement, content, and want (?) in cregans gaze, and then, the smallest of nods.

oh.

oh.

jace’s gaze flickers from cregan, to you, and back and forth a few more times. his breathing is unsteady as you return to cregans side, and you can’t (or don’t) hide your pleasure at his reaction.

“Goodnight, My Prince.”

he cant even manage a nod as you both turn to walk away, cregan shooting him one last look. the flustered prince of dragonstone retreats to his chambers, leaning his head against his closed & locked door — moving to fiddle with the laces of his breeches.

you and your husband certainly make quite the pair. cregan, steadfast, burly, & brooding (handsome), with a reserved playfulness only for you — and you, teasing, warm, & confident, with a seemingly reserved deliberateness to drive jacaerys crazy (not that it takes much, of course).

one night, when he thinks he's completely lost any hope of sanity, the gods decide to have a sort of cruel mercy on him.

it is lord boltons name day, and he has extended the planned celebrations invitation to jacaerys as well. you three depart as one, opting to travel by horseback instead of jace arriving on vermax days before you and cregan. most are surprised by his decision, indeed (did jace sacrifice his freedom on dragonback for the prospect of spending more time with you both?).

jace didn't know you rode horses. he acts like the swaying of your hips doesn't capture him, distracting him throughout the entire journey. you and cregan act like you don't notice (do you?)

you all arrive, and on the day of celebrations, allow the wine & northern ale to wash away your sins down your throat. cregans tolerance is highest, jace's is lowest, with you resting in the middle. his cheeks are flushed, and his prided self control has seemed to have left itself at winterfell. you converse with one another in a secluded corner, allowing everyone else to fade from view. you speak with loose tongues, and jacaerys feels cregans hand on the back of his neck, thumb creeping into his hairline.

you speak of the festivities, the travel, the gossip, dragonstone, and jaces own interests. he can see something lurking beneath your usual gaze, you were hiding something. your eyes flickered with uncertainty. no — you wanted to know something.

and then, the very question that broke the damn - sweltering with the combined pent up desire allowed to built over the last weeks.

"Are you untouched, My Prince?"